Twilight Finale
by Falke181
Summary: Six months after the events of Breaking Dawn the Cullens find themselves against an unseen force that threatens their very existence!


Twilight: The Finale

Chapter 1: Pater noster, qui es in caelis

It was near afternoon as Bella and Edward stood on the porch of the Cullen household, watching Renesmee and Jacob play in the field. Alice and Jasper had gone hunting earlier that morning, disappearing deep in to the northern forests in search of large game.

Edward wrapped his arms around Bella, her hands holding his in a slight embrace. She expanded her mental shield beyond him, allowing a flood of thoughts to rush in to his mind.

"Don't worry," he said softly, "They've hunted for periods of time much longer than this."

"Still though, I'm worried." She moaned. "I don't like them being so far away from us."

"There was a long time where they were on their own. I'm sure they can handle themselves."

Within mere seconds, Jacob and Renesmee turned their heads as Alice and Jasper bounded out of the trees, slight blood stains soaking their clothes. As they neared, a half-smile appeared on Edward's face.

"What happened to you two?"  
"Moose are much harder to take down than you would think," Alice said, brushing down the frayed rim of her skirt.

"Harder than the mountain lion I took down?" Bella asked.

Jasper sighed. "Yes Bella, even tougher than that."

Edward's head perked up, picking up thoughts from inside the house.  
"Yes, Rosalie, you and Emmett may go hunting."

The group watched as the two sprinted out from the house and bounded in to the north. Bella was annoyed to find Rosalie and Jacob giving each other quick, hateful glances as they passed, but it was better than the insults they had grown fond of exchanging. As Jacob turned his attention back to Renesmee, Rosalie picked up speed and was lost in a blur of blonde.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Jacob left. After a hug with Renesmee and an uncomfortable farewell with Edward and Bella, he ran to the edge of the forest. There he changed to his wolf form and sprinted off toward the reservation. Yet despite having her child in her arms, Edward noticed Bella's face growing worried with each minute that passed with Rosalie and Emmett gone.

"If only I'd gone with them." Bella complained.  
Edward smiled reassuringly. "Emmett and Rosalie are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, we can't have Renesmee here without her mother."

He stroked Renesmee under the chin, to which she gave a little giggle and playfully tried to bite at his finger. She had aged quickly since the Volturi visited, now looking to be about eight years old. New clothes had to be purchased by the week to keep up with her growth rate, which slowed in the last month. As the couple watched the sun set, they heard an ear-piercing scream come from inside the house.

They rushed in and found Alice with her knees on the floor, collapsed on the carpet. Jasper was immediately by her side stroking her hair and helping her up.

"What happened?" Edward asked.

Without looking up Alice muttered, "I-I saw…Rosalie a-and Emmett…"

Bella watched as Edward concentrated to peer in to Alice's mind. After what seemed like hours, his eyes shot open as he made a dry heaving motion, covering his mouth as if expecting vomit.

"Edward! What's wrong?"

"We need to go north. Now!"

"Let's all go!" she yelled.  
"No! I'll call Jacob and ask him to take care of Renesmee. You should stay too."

"But I want to go with you."  
Edward stroked her cheek. "Bella, this is not something for you. Stay here."  
Bella folded her arms. "What? You think I'm too weak to take care of myself?"

Edward stammered for a moment before finally just shaking his head.

"Fine, you can come. I'll get Seth and Lea too."

All four raced out of the house as Edward pulled out his cellphone and told Jasper to inform Carlisle. Despite the talking, Bella felt as though it was near silent. Something dark hung over Edward and Alice that cast a foreboding silence over the group. This only became gradually worse when the phone calls had finished and the only sound left was Jasper comforting Alice. Edward remained dead silent as they sprinted left and right to follow Alice's erratic trail.

Darkness now reined in the sky, the moon creating an almost sharp crescent shape in the sky, yet to the group it was almost as day. Alice continued along her darting path until she stopped, smelled the air, and darted directly to the east. Bella followed the others after her, not knowing what had caused the sudden change. And then she smelled it. A scent that had long ago polluted the air after Victoria's newborn invasion years ago. Sweet smoke wafted in to the air, causing Bella to shudder at what they might find.

The anticipation grew steadily until they finally landed in a brush clearing. Two flames burned side by side, one higher than the other and in a very distinct shape. They approached the two piles slowly, not sure what to make of the scene until they could see the remains.

"Rose!" Bella yelled at the smaller pile.

Indeed, it was her. The hair almost to cinders now, but a fragment of her face remained, looking up almost in disbelief that she had been dismembered. As a blur, Edward plunged his hand in to the fire and grabbed the shard, wincing as smoke curled from his flesh.

"Jasper, what do you make of this?"

With a sorrowful swallow, Jasper took the piece and looked it over. His brow furrowed in concentration.

"It looks like she was ripped…no, cut apart. Then there are marks on her face, small scratches that I would say were teeth." He shook his head. "This is beyond my expertise. We should bring this home; see if Carlisle can make something of it."

Bella turned toward the larger fire. "And what about-"

She froze midsentence. The sheer horror of what she saw overcame any ability to speak. It was a metal beam driven at a diagonal angle through the person's chest. Their skin cracked and began to burn from the hole extending outwards. Another beam was wrapped around this hole and held their arms straight out. At the top of the center beam was the disembodied head of Emmett, his face frozen in an expression of outrage.

Alice collapsed again, her face in her hands trying her best to weep, but could not. Bella dared not look at the rest, for fear she might break down as well. As her eyes darted around, she looked closer at the binding beam and found an inscription.

"Look, there's something written there."

Edward leaned to get a better view, careful not to touch the flames.

"It's Latin, I remember it from school." He said.  
"What does it say?" Jasper asked.

"It says, 'Perditionem est prope daemones.'"

"In English, please?"

"Your destruction is nigh demons."

Chapter II: Sanctificetur Nomen Tuum

Three men were on the 10 o'clock train to Canada. The waitress came by, a smile on her face though her eyes were glazed from fatigue. She immediately brightened up upon laying eyes on them.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything?"

One of them raised his head. "Whiskey, tha whole bottle."

The waitress' eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Across from him, a man with a fedora took a fifty dollar bill out from his wallet.

"You will have to pardon my friend miss, he is just a tad nervous. I promise he won't get rowdy."

The waitress took the fifty and gave the man a wink.

"Not a problem sir."

The man with a fedora reclined in his seat, removing his hat in one smooth motion. He was pale with short brown hair and lithe muscle like a panther. Covering this was a white shirt with a red t-shape on it, a worn pair of jeans, and a brown aviator's jacket.

"Could you for once not try to frighten the staff with your drinking habits, Cathal?"

Cathal shrugged. He too was a pale man, but had long blond hair that ran to the bottom of his neck, a short blond beard, and a blue arrow tattooed over his right cheek. Physically he had broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and biceps that looked like they could break a person's neck by flexing. For clothes he had a pair of jeans and an open leather jacket which showcased his muscular, scarred torso.

"I used ta always drink like this before war. Compared ta wha' we 'ad in my homeland, these drinks are boiled down water."

"Cathal," said the man to his right, "we do not want to draw attention to ourselves."

The man on the right was almost as muscular as Cathal, but kept it hidden under long red robes with his hair under a white turban and a short brown beard with a mustache that covered part of his dark skinned face.

"Look oose' talking, Bayezid." Cathal said as he poked Bayezid in the shoulder. "If ye were ta enter my land in such clothing, we would call in orr blind elders ta take shots at you!"

Bayezid's face remained immobile as the man sat there in silence. Then he cracked a smile and they burst out laughing.

"And if you came to mine," he said between breaths, "We would take one sniff of you and throw you in the nearest river!"

This made them laugh with even more zeal until Cathal's whiskey had arrived. The entire bottle stood there completely full with three crystal glasses next to it. Cathal looked at the glasses in astonishment.  
"I suppose she thought we were sharin'?"

He uncorked the bottle and raised it.

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the other two said in unison.

The two men sat in silence as Cathal would switch between looking out the window and chugging the alcohol. Before long, the sun rose over British Columbia, casting a caramel hue on the city of Vancouver. They exited the train, luggage in hand to a limo that was waiting for them. The one with the fedora nodded to the limo driver who gave a brief smile.

"Where to gentlemen?" he asked.

"Wedgewood Hotel, please."

Cathal and Bayezid settled in to their room around midday. After a quick prayer, Bayezid headed in to the bathroom for a good soak.

"Can we get some room service in ere'?" Cathal yelled to him.

"It's being handled under the usual account, don't go over."

Cathal picked up the phone

"Do ye want anything?"

"Alaskan crab if they have it, salmon if they don't."

"Good, I am nae sharing my steak again."

After a quick conversation with the front desk, Cathal dropped the phone abruptly back on the receiver. Bayezid had entered the bath and locked the door behind him, the sound of rushing water muffled from the outside. The food arrived not but an hour later as Bayezid was exiting his bath.

He covered himself with a large white robe and put his hair up in a turban before sitting down to eat. The service didn't have crab, so he calmly placed his napkin on his lap before opening cutting the salmon. Cathal on the other hand ripped his steak apart and sank his teeth in to the center, juices dripping all over his jeans.

Bayezid looked over and shook his head as Cathal released the steak from his maw with a maniacal grin. He looked over at Bayezid, who had returned to his fish.

"Wha'?"

"You could show some restraint." He said without looking up. "And perhaps bathe, you have been wearing those same unwashed clothes since we arrived to this continent."

He threw the steak back on to the plate. "Fine, oppress my culture."

"I am not oppressing your culture, merely your scent. The last thing we need to smell like is blood and dirt."

"Oh yes, when are we meeting with him?"

"Tomorrow evening. I need to rest and he wants to make sure it remains quiet."

"But wha' about-"

Bayezid gave him a firm look. "Eliminating all witnesses does not work when you use public transportation as a form of projectiles."

Cathal took off his jacket and stretched.

"It helped ta trap tha victims did it nae?"

"We don't want a repeat of Arkansas, Cathal."

Cathal groaned as he walked in to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Did ye lock all of the bags in tha lockers?" Cathal asked Bayezid.

Today he was wearing a white t-shirt with blue camouflage pants, combat boots, and aviator sunglasses. Next to him, Bayezid wore dark blue robes, his hair in the same white turban, and his beard neatly trimmed. They were in a taxi cab heading to the north of the province under the direction of Bayezid. The sun hung low in the sky, almost disappearing behind the horizon.

In the backseat, Cathal took a flask out of his back pocket and sloshed a bottle of vodka in his right hand. With a slight smile on his face, he opened the flask and vodka, emptying some of the alcohol in to his flask, careful not to spill a drop.

"You really think you should be getting drunk on the eve of battle?"

Cathal shrugged and closed the vodka bottle. "He said I did nae 'ave ta take this seriously."

The sun set right as Cathal took a swig of his flask, slapping himself a view times before closing it again. Suddenly, Bayezid looked to the left and snarled.

"Stop the car, please." He said to the driver.

"But it's the middle of freakin' nowhere."

Bayezid let out a growl from the back of his throat, showing his teeth in an aggressive gesture. The cab driver took one look in his rearview mirror and slammed on the brakes. Cathal and Bayezid got out of the car just as the cab driver let go of the brakes and stepped on the accelerator. Before he could speed off, Cathal took his boot and slammed it into the trunk, bending it nearly in half and stopping the car in its tracks.

"Do not run away," Bayezid scolded, "We have things in here."

Cathal removed his foot from the center of the car and grabbed the rear bumper, dragging the cab in their direction and opened the trunk for Bayezid. From the trunk, Bayezid grabbed a metal case that let the car lift up a few inches from the ground. He hefted it over his shoulder and went over to the driver's side of the cab.

"Wh-what are you?" the driver asked, trembling with fear and sweat falling in beads down his face. He flinched as Bayezid reached in to his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

"Generous tippers," he said coldly, "Your service is terrible."

He walked away when he heard the driver mutter something under his breath.

"Cathal."

Cathal smiled and grabbed the back of the car with both hands. In one swift motion, he lifted the car in to the air as the driver screamed in terror and fumbled at his door handle.

"Time ta show ye how I won tha shot put contest o' eighteen hundred."

With a wild yell, Cathal spun around with the car held on by the axle before letting go as he watched it soar in to the distance. The driver's screams got farther and farther away until they ended with a sickening crunch.

"Ach, I was off by a few meters!" he yelled.

"No one is keeping score, but we are running out of time to intercept them."

In a blur, they sprinted toward the west under the light of the half moon.

Tanya and her coven darted across the grassy plains as quickly as their legs could carry them. Between the flashes of blond blocking her gaze, she managed to glance at Alan. His pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, but his normally dreamy face was wrought with anguish. Though he was new, the coven agreed to help him escape to the artic wilderness where his old coven would never find him. It was a shame to see him go, but she couldn't risk the safety of the others by travelling north with him.

"How much farther?" Eleazar asked.

"I am terribly sorry, my friend," Alan muttered, "But I must get out of their range and it is lengthy. They have a tracker among them."

"You don't think they've enlisted the Volturri? Do you?"

Alan shook his head. "They were trying to prevent me from reporting them. If you stand in their way, I cannot guarantee your safety."

He lifted his head up and sniffed the air, his fear finally coming to fruition.

"They are here." He whispered.

In a flash, three men appeared in front of them almost as devils in the rising moonlight. One stepped forward and displayed his tongue covered in blood that dripped slowly from the tip to the ground.

"You have to run." Eleazar whispered to Tanya.

"No! I'm not leaving you guys behind!"

"We'll hold them off as long as we can, but you have to go now!"

"I'll escort her." Garrett said. "Take her to the Cullens in Forks, we'll meet you all there once you take care of these clowns."

"What about Alan?"

Alan stepped forward. In the moonlight his form was regal, almost porcelain with skin akin to crystal. Tanya stifled a whimper as he looked with contempt on the former members of his coven.  
"I will stay."

"But Alan, they'll kill you!"

"Then I will die, but I will not drag you in to this, Tanya."

Tanya struggled to say something. Anything. But lacked the ability to speak to him coherently, his presence dominating the night.

"You aren't doing this alone." Eleazar said, stepping to Alan's side.

"Nor are you." Carmen added.

"Why don't Garrett and I fight?" Kate asked, obviously annoyed.

Alan shook his head. "We will need experience in this fight. Eleazar and Carmen will be better suited against these men. Please, take Tanya to the Cullens and wait for us there."

Garrett patted Alan on the shoulder. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Garrett."

With a pained expression, Tanya was taken away by Garrett and Kate as Alan and the others charged at the three men.

Chapter III: Adveniat Regnum Tuum

The Cullen household was entering its third day of grieving. The loss of Rosalie and Emmett had shocked everyone, but none more than Carlisle. As soon as he arrived home, Bella took it upon herself to inform both him and Esme of Rosalie and Emmett's fate.

Esme had since locked herself in her room while Carlisle remorsefully examined the retrieved fragment of his daughter's face. He had only come out once to greet Tanya, Kate, and Garrett, but even that added to the ominous cloud of misery as they had their own troubles. Tanya's head was buried in her hands with Alice embracing her with one arm.

"Eleazar and Carmen stayed behind to save us, but the bravest of them all was Alan. I just hope they're alright."

"Don't worry, Tanya," Bella assured proudly, "So long as we have our family to protect us, everything will be fine."

Almost simultaneously, Jacob hopped on to the front porch, shirt in hand and beaded with sweat. Edward hastily approached him.

"What's wrong, Jacob?" he asked.

"Strange scent…from the north…" he said between breaths. "Pale man…with glasses."

Tanya immediately stood up. "Alan!"

"The pack is ready to kill him as we speak. If we don't-"  
"NO!" Tanya screamed as she ran through the glass window, shattering it to pieces.

Edward and Jacob watched in silence for a few moments as she vanished in a blur of speed.

"Come on!" Bella shouted. "We can't let her and her friend get torn up by the wolves!"

She, Edward, and Jacob bolted from the front porch in the direction of Tanya.

Alan raced through the forest as quickly as he could, waving in between trees as he listened closely for the howling. As soon as he entered American territory, they had pursued him relentlessly and now they were closing in. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't evade the beasts forever; they would catch him at the Cullen's house and take out the rest of the family.

It was at this point that his luck finally ran out. A wolf had gotten ahead of him and in a flash of fur and claws took a swipe at his face. The claws missed his face, but ripped off his glasses and sent them flying in to the bushes. He looked around in a panic before crashing in to a tree branch, only to regain his balance by planting his feet in to the ground, and turning around in time to throw a pouncing wolf in to the foliage with a loud thud.

He blinked continuously as the wolves circled around him, snarling and snapping their teeth as they gazed at him with fury. Alan knew there was no escape as he slowly crouched in to a fighting stance.

"So this is how it ends?" he said with a slight grin.

The head wolf crept in closer toward him, his lips lined with drool and a sinister growl coming from the back of his throat. They both tensed their muscles to attack when suddenly one of the wolves turned his head to the side and howled. The head wolf too raised his head toward the brush as Edward, Tanya, Bella, and Jacob emerged.

"Stand down, Sam." Jacob ordered.

Jacob pressed his temples as Sam snapped his jaw in his direction.

"I will demand authority when you risk destroying the peace."

Sam gave a last defiant snarl before lowering his head in submission. At the same time, Kate rushed out from the brush and embraced Alan. He gave a startled grunt as he wrapped his arms around her.  
"I-I was so worried." She said her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Alan said nothing, his head slightly hung in shame. Tanya stopped embracing him and stared at him.

"Where are Eleazar and Carmen?" she demanded.

Alan's head descended as he avoided the question. Tanya gently put her hand to his chin as she stroked his hair, but he jutted his head to the side.

"I am sorry."

Tanya stepped away from Alan, her face stuck in permanent shock. Her knees trembled as her legs gave out from beneath her and she plopped to the ground with a thud. Alan watched her as she sat there, her eyes glued to the ground. With a long sigh, he looked up at Edward and pointed.

"You, Cullen, help me find my glasses and we will make haste to your house."

"Glasses?" Edward questioned.

"Vampirism does not heal everything."

"Yes it does!" Bella exclaimed. "It healed my broken spine!"

"Obviously it does not heal brain damage."

"What brain damage?"

Alan sighed as he sifted through the foliage. "When I was human, I suffered from an eye disease that rendered me nearly blind. It had taken so much of my sight that when I was bitten, I had to wear corrective lenses to see normally."

As he said this, he triumphantly pulled his glasses out of the brush. They had thin lenses which were encased by black, square frames. He took a green cloth out of his pocket and wiped off the frames before gently putting the cloth back in the pocket and putting on his glasses. Looking on Tanya once more he grimaced then darted toward her, picking her up and running in one smooth motion.

Alan arrived to hostility as he entered the Cullen's house. Alice and Jasper nearly tore him apart limb from limb until they saw he was carrying Tanya. The same could not be said for Kate and Garrett, however.

"What do you mean they're dead! You stupid fuck!"

"Stupid wh-" he began as he was interrupted by Kate shocking him with a punch to the chest.  
"It was not my fault." He coughed.

"Then explain why you aren't dead!"

Alan slowly worked his way to his feet.

"I was wrong about their allegiance. They did not hate the Volturi, they desired to join them. By killing Eleazar and Carmen, they would be telling the Volturi that they could kill those they could not. Eleazar told me to flee just before they ripped his head off. But Carmen, poor Carmen, she suffered a terrible fate."

Kate's hand clenched again. "Tell me."

"She was chosen by one of the men, a barbarian. He splattered gasoline on her and then ripped her apart by himself. After that he built a sacrificial pile of wood and put her on it, dancing around and screaming Tyr over and over again."

"How do you know all of this?"

Alan shook his head. "I saw the fuel out of the corner of my eye, the rest I've seen and heard too many times."

"You said you were trying to report them." Garrett said as he came in the room. "Why?"

"A few months ago, they decided to kill two vampires travelling in Oklahoma. At that point, I couldn't take more of it and decided to send word to the Volturi. Unfortunately, they followed me."

"Wait." Jasper ordered from the other room as he sped in. "The vampires, what were their names?"

"Peter and Charlotte I believe. Were they friends of yours?"

Jasper stared at the floor, saying nothing while Kate glared at Alan with hate.  
"Kate," he whispered, "Grab him."

Alan stood still as Kate took his wrists, pinning him on his back with both hands.

"You are making a big mistake." Alan snarled.

"I'll take my chances." Jasper retorted.

He cocked back his fist, ready to strike Alan when a voice cried from the top of the stairs.  
"Wait!" Carlisle shouted.

Jasper gasped as Carlisle gracefully moved from the stairs to his immediate right. While his frozen appearance prevented him from looking tired, he seemed akin to a hollow shell. His skin and lab coat were smudged with dirt, his eyes were black as a deep sea trench, and he reeked of chemicals. He looked at Kate and shook his head. With a snarl, she let Alan go.

"I believe a proper introduction is in order." Carlisle said with a smile, holding out his hand. "Carlisle Cullen."

Alan shook Carlisle's hand. "Alan of Rochester, pleasure to meet you."

Carlisle's smile grew slightly larger. "Always pleasant to meet a fellow Englishman."

Alan let go of his hand and gazed with slight contempt at Jasper.

"If you wish to keep people aware of that, I suggest you teach your children better manners."

"Why you-" Jasper growled.

"Jasper, he's from a different time, don't take it personally."

Jasper huffed before leaving the room. Carlisle motioned for Kate to do the same, which she executed post haste.

"I'll have to ask you not to goad my children, despite that you may not see otherwise."

"My apologies, I am not used to be attacked at random."

"You'll have to forgive them; it's been a hard week on us all, which is exactly why I called Jasper off of you."

"I have information."

"Precisely."

"I can tell you what I know of them, but I do not know what will happen once they reach the Volturi."

"We'll just have to be cautious. In the meantime, make yourself at home, Tanya is waiting for you."

Chapter IV: Fiat voluntas Tua

Enrico didn't particularly enjoy his flight. Despite being a short jaunt from his vacation house in coastal Spain to Tuscany, he had to suffer through every woman from first class to coach dropping their jaws as they walked past him. Then his manners would kick in and he would have to stop listening to Cat Stevens just to entertain them.

He couldn't blame them though, he had dressed to impress. His black hair was in a wavy pattern down to his neck with his teeth whitened for the occasion. He had chosen to wear a black suit with a white shirt and crimson tie with black loafers neatly polished.

As soon as he was through customs and grabbed his luggage, he turned on his phone. Any moment now his boss would be sending him a text with the name of his escort. The small text on the main screen affirmed this and upon opening, it said, "Jane."

"Oh good God." He muttered.

There, standing at the entrance of the airport was Jane. She was covered in a black robe which only made her blood red eyes and sadistic smile all the more unsettling. Enrico's face became a sarcastic half-grin as he approached.

"Good to see you again, Jane." He snarked.

"Go to hell, Enrico." She said cheerfully.

"So long as you aren't there, I'll be the first in line."

Jane's smile tensed as she and Enrico walked side by side out of the airport. Outside, the sun was nearly absent on the horizon, casting a sight orange hue on everything it touched. Jane and Enrico hurried to the parking lot where a jet black car pulled up to meet them. Enrico put his luggage in the trunk before entering on the opposite side as Jane. No sooner had he closed the door than he was greeted by a wide smile.

"Hey Enrico! How was France?" Felix asked as he started driving.

"Not as enjoyable, had to do some business in America."

Felix chuckled. "Well that's what happens when you're the new guy, Aro sends you to do the dirty work."

"There's a difference between doing dirty work and trying to kill me."

"Cullens?"

"All of them with two in the grave."

Felix almost swerved off the road. "Shit. Are you serious?"

"I wasn't sent over just to say 'hello'."

"So who did it?"

"You'll find out. I've got the evidence locked away in my luggage."

"Which ones are out?"

"The blond and her boyfriend."

Felix's shoulders relaxed slightly as he muttered, "Man, Aro is going to shit a load…"

Enrico was grateful for his special suite in Volterra. It was an older structure reconstructed to be an open apartment with colorful paintings of landscapes dotted the walls with some of the smaller ones hidden by darkness as the moon rose in full view of the veranda which gave a marvelous sight of the Tuscan countryside bathed in moonlight.

He took a moment to check his fridge before taking his briefcase downstairs to the leaders. Sure enough, it was freshly stocked with packs of blood. He pulled one out, closed the fridge, and reached up to grab a wine glass from the cabinets. As part of a trick he learned from Demetri he added a bit of water before adding in the blood to make it smoother.

It was as he was about to walk out the door that he realized he forgot something. In the middle of his living room was a cherry wood coffee table with gilded edges. A gift from Aro that played host to another gift he had received. Resting neatly on the table was a lavish chess set with marble pieces of black and white.

Enrico sighed with a slight grin as he knocked his king over. Aro won again, as usual.

"Why does he keep playing against me?" he asked himself. "I never win anyway."

Aro was speaking to Caius and Marcus when Enrico entered. He immediately turned around when he heard Enrico's shoes click against the marble floor, his footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling and pillars surrounding them. Enrico stopped in his place and politely bowed to Aro, making sure to keep his briefcase stationary.

"Now, Enrico, we've discussed this." He said with a small smile. "You have no need for formalities around us."

Enrico resumed his upright position. "You'll have to excuse me, sir; it's a force of habit."

Aro chuckled. "So how was your trip to the Cullen's?"  
Enrico tapped his briefcase. "Well, I managed to find something at the scene. I thought I would show it to you three to see if you knew anything."

Aro held out his hand, grabbing Enrico's briefcase as it was gently placed in his palm. With two quick flicks he opened the latches and carefully opened the briefcase. Inside was a torn piece of fine cloth. It was jade green gilded with a silver thread, but its beauty was tarnished by splashes of crimson blood that dotted the fabric.

Suddenly, Caius gave a gasp and snatched the cloth. He pressed it to his face and inhaled as if he couldn't get enough of the smell. Then he froze, his hand clenched around the fabric as he exhaled then inhaled sharply.

"MOON!" he screamed. "MOON! MOON! MOON! MOON! MOON!"

"Caius!" Aro yelled! "What's wrong?"

Caius took one look at Aro with panicked eyes and let out a shrill scream before slamming his head in to the ground. He continued screaming as he bashed his head in to the ground over and over again. Aro and Marcus tore him off the ground, kicking and screaming.

"Felix!" Aro called. In a flash, Felix appeared; ready to pounce until he gazed upon Caius.

"Aro, what's going on?"

"No time, restrain him!"

Felix hesitated before jumping behind Caius as Marcus and Aro dived to the sides. Felix grabbed both of Caius' arms and drove him to the ground, sitting on his legs to avoid the thrashing.

Enrico stood still, his mouth agape.

"What in the seven levels of hell was that?"

Aro brushed off his clothing. "I don't know, the last time he did-"

He froze mid-sentence. "No…it can't be…"

He tore a portion of the fabric from Caius' hand and sniffed it at length.

"Marcus, smell this."

Marcus gently grabbed the fabric and inhaled the scent deeply.

"This can't be I thought we'd finished them."

"Finished who?" Enrico asked. "What's going on?"

Aro looked at Enrico solemnly. "It's time you knew, the Volturri have faced different threats other than rival covens. Long ago, there was a threat to vampires even greater than the Romanians and the Cullens."

"Who could pose a greater threat than rival vampires?"

Aro released the fabric and all three watched as it fell gently to the floor.

"The Children of the Moon. Werewolves."

Chapter V: Sicut in caelo, et in terra

Cathal was relieved when he approached the Scottish coastline. While he always enjoyed a good swim, his pit stop in Iceland reminded him why he flew these days. The financiers of the Titanic still owed him for tearing his jacket.

He took a deep breath as he powered through the last mile and surfaced on the coastline. It was dawn as he walked up to his house. The sun cast a slight shadow on the low structure, showing the dew covered ivy climbing the walls as it had done since the time of Winston Churchill. With a smile, he opened the door which immediately displayed a cozy interior with wood walls and floors, a small dining table, stairs leading down behind it, and a granite kitchen that sparkled with cleanliness.

Blocking all of this, however, was a small blond woman. She had a petite build, standing no higher than Cathal's shoulders with snow white skin, golden eyes, hair reaching to her own shoulders, all covered by a green nightgown. She looked at Cathal skeptically and sighed.

"Ye have nae been gone for a while. Ye should know tha' ma is goin' ta kill ye drippin' water like tha'."

Cathal shook his head. "Ye should watch yer tongue, Frida. Yer mother has tried ta kill me befoor, but never succeeded."

Cathal opened his arms as the woman gave him a hug.

"Good ta have ye back, da!"

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and let her go from his embrace.

"Good ta be back, lass."

"Cathal?" A voice said behind Frida.

Cathal gazed to the back of the room and smiled, closing the door without averting his gaze. This woman had olive skin with wavy jet black hair that went halfway down her neck that led to a black cotton nightgown. Frida stepped aside as Cathal embraced the woman and kissed her.

"It is good to have you back, mi amore." She whispered in his ear.

"Aye, tis good to be back, love. But it will nae be for long." He said with a frown.

"In that case…"

The woman went to the kitchen, opened a drawer, and took out a phone which she tossed to Cathal. He looked it over, finding it was a flip phone covered in a metal casing and sealed with plastic.

"They will not let us insure the cazzo phones again, so I picked the toughest model I can find. Guaranteed to be bullet and waterproof. Should last you a month or so."

Cathal took the phone and almost slipped it in his pocket when he saw the woman wag her finger.

"Bath first." She looked over at Frida. "You too, young lady."

"But I took one yesterday, Delfina." She moaned.

Delfina smiled. "I'll put in the flower petals."

Frida looked down at the floor. "The white ones with animal blood?"

"You know it. I'll pack yours and your father's bags while you two relax."

Cathal and Frida arrived in Tuscany the next day. The sun hadn't even risen as they grabbed their luggage. Cathal was wearing an open leather black trench coat with a deep blue shirt, tan cargo pants, and black boots. Frida, on the other hand, wore a long, white blouse with a long blue skirt and two leather bracelets with eight spikes on each one. Delfina had opted to stay at the house to restock the fridge and kill any squatters on the property.

"Call me if you need anything." She said happily.

"Do ye remember the last time we came her da'?" Frida asked as the exited the airport.

Cathal nodded. "Aye, a lot more cars than there used ta be."

"Taxi!" Frida shouted.

The cab driver almost ran in to the car in front of him as he pulled up to Cathal and Frida. They loaded their luggage in to the trunk and quickly entered the cab.

"Where to madonna?" The driver asked.

"Volterra." Cathal growled.

The driver turned around with a sneer on his face. "I was asking the lady."

Suddenly Frida punched through the glass behind the driver's head and grabbed his hair. He yelped in pain as she leaned closer to his seat.

"An' my da' answered." She snarled, letting go of his hair. "Now drive."

"Si, I mean, yes madonna!"

The driver sped out of the pickup section, nearly hitting pedestrians as he passed. Cathal took a piece of paper and his phone from his pocket, reading the number to himself as he typed it in.

"Hello?" asked a voice on the other end.

"We will be there within the hour."

"We'll have one of our guards on lookout. Safe travels."

"Aye." He whispered as he hung up.

They watched as the Italian countryside passed by as the sun began to rise in the west, casting a burning light over the city. The cab driver lowered his mirror, blocking the sun from reaching Frida while Cathal masked his face with his collar. Before they knew it, they were just inside the city proper under the shade of the low buildings which began to fade with the ascent of the sun.

"Here is good." Frida motioned.

The cab driver shrugged and pulled up to an ivy covered shop. As Frida and Cathal left with their luggage, he cleared his throat impatiently.

"Are you going to pay?" he inquired.

In a blur of black, a man hidden in a dark cloak gave him €100.

"Keep the change." He said quietly.

The driver took the bill and tucked it in to his pocket.

"Yes signore!" he yelled as he sped off in to the town.

The man in black sighed, handing Cathal and Frida black hooded cloaks.

"You two are as subtle as flying rhinos." He scolded.

Cathal put on his cloak and pulled up the hood as the sun barely scraped his face.

"Santiago, aye?"

The man in black stood up straight. He was almost as tall as Cathal with muscles hidden under his think black cloak and a stern face fixated in a permanent scowl visible form the hood. He motioned his hand to the store behind him.

"After you." He gestured.

Cathal opened the door and walked in briskly with Frida and Santiago following closely behind him. Animal heads lined the walls along with bows and fishing poles. In the back was a clerk behind a wood counter staring very intently at a bow he was polishing, as if to remove every single imperfection ever acquired during its usage. His rolled up sleeves revealed a slim muscular build covered by a white button down shirt tucked in to a black pair of slacks and black boots. In addition he wore a monocle over his left eye while the other was covered with a black eye patch. He was completely bald, shaven in fact with a brown mustache that masked a scar on his upper lip Santiago stepped forward as the clerk looked up from his bow.

"Fine game today." The clerk said in a hoarse voice.

"Indeed," Santiago agreed. "Caught myself two young bucks."

Santiago tossed a bag on to the clerk's counter in front of his bow. The clerk picked up and weighed the bag before giving a grunt of approval and kicking the bottom of his counter. Behind him the wall opened to reveal a long corridor with fluorescent lighting down to a forked hallway leading left and right. The clerk jutted his head toward the trio.

"Get moving." He sneered.

"Keep it to yourself, Gregory." Santiago mocked as he walked past and down the hallway.

Gregory gave a quick glance to Cathal and Frida as they passed.

"Keep it tight, keep it right." He muttered as he picked up the bow again.

The door closed and bolted shut as they continued down the corridor.

"Who was tha'?" Frida asked.

"Gregory, a third generation vampire killer and our unwilling safe guard."

"Why in tha world would ye keep a man like him as a protector?"

"We have an arrangement." Santiago continued as he headed down the right hallway. "We get this entrance to the coven, we give him shipments, and he doesn't do to the rest of us what he did to Demetri."

"Wha' happened?"

"Do you know how far up a man's ass you can stick a knife?"

"Nae."

"Neither did we. Also, don't stare at his neck."

"Why?"

"An extra souvenir."

The three stopped as they came to a door which could have passed for stone if not for the small camera imbedded in the center.

"Voice code requested." A voice said over an invisible speaker system.

Santiago groaned. "I'm a bitchy little princess."

"Voice code accepted. Goodbye, guest."

Santiago turned to Cathal and Frida, both of whom were stifling a laugh.

"We had to make other concessions too." He growled.

The door gave off a groan of simultaneous locks coming undone before opening in to a torch lit tunnel. On the other side was a wooden door with a small metal slot near the top. They walked down the hall as the door locked shut behind them, leaving only the torches to cast a faint, eerie light upon them and the roughly chiseled dirt walls. As they approached the door, the metal slot slid to the side, revealing a dark pair of eyes that peered at them menacingly before being hidden again. The sound of a heavy bar being lifted echoed in the tunnel as they stopped outside the door. It opened slowly to reveal a pale man with black hair and pale skin wearing a pure black suit with a red tie and white shirt.

"Hello, Enrico." Santiago greeted politely. "Didn't expect you to be stationed here."

Enrico tapped the side of his skull. "With my shield, Aro figured it would be best. They can't sense what they can't read."

He looked behind Santiago toward Cathal and Frida.

"Who are these two?" he asked.

Santiago glided past Enrico as Cathal and Frida edged closer.

"New recruits. The ones with the abilities they want."

Cathal shoved the door open as he and Frida barged through the door, shoving Enrico back and slamming the door behind them. They were now in a room coated head to toe in marble and white stone that led to several corridors. Cathal had a sneer on his face as he stomped up to Enrico and put forth his hand.

"Cathal Fenrisúlfr, reportin' fer duty." He proclaimed gruffly.

Enrico shook Cathal's hand, not even wincing as his grip tightened. Cathal raised an eyebrow.

"Good handshake, lad."

"Thanks, my father taught me." Enrico added with a smile.

Cathal let go of his hand and jutted his neck toward Frida.

"An' this is my daughter, Frida."

Enrico smiled warmly as Frida spit at his feet.

"Charming." He remarked.

"Better a fightin' lass than a stick o' a man like yerself!"

"And short tempered too." He turned around and walked toward the central corridor. "Follow me, recruits. Aro will want to speak with you."

The group entered the main room as Aro sat up straight in his chair, casting a regal glance from his wooden gilded throne. To his right was Marcus who stared at Cathal and Frida with an unwavering gaze. Finally to the left of Aro was Caius smiling at the ceiling and wrapped in a black cloak as if shielding himself from the light above. Surrounding the thrones was most of the Volturi guard all dressed in dark garments contrasting their pale skin.

Enrico and Santiago went to their spots on the walls, leaving Cathal, Frida, and their luggage in the center of the room. Aro sighed and waved his hand, making the luggage disappear in a blur of black and brown. He then smiled at the duo.

"Ah, the mighty Cathal and his daughter Frida! How long I've looked forward to meeting you in person!" he proclaimed joyously.

Cathal stood unimpressed while Frida curtsied with barely a change in expression.

"Tha feelin' is mutual, sir."

Aro nodded his head politely. "Now I've heard you two made quite a ruckus in order to get our attention, however, I'm willing to drop the punishment and charges if you'd be so kind as to join us."

"Where is tha test?" Cathal growled.

Aro's eyes widened before he broke in to a slight chuckle.

"Straight to the point, I like that. As you suspect, we're not just going to let you in. You have to show us your strengths first."

He looked to his right. "Jane?"

Jane stepped forward, as if savoring every stride with a malicious grin spreading from ear to ear as she neared the two in the center of the room. As her little high heels touched the center tile on the glistening floor, a tingling pulse flowed from her like a wave. As it engulfed Cathal and Frida, the other members knew it was only a matter of time before they crumpled to the floor in agony.

However, they just stood there. Jane's arrogant smile slowly faded as Cathal and Frida began looking around curiously, not sure what to do.

"'Ave we started yet?" Frida asked.

Jane's lower lip quivered as she let out a high pitched scream, the presence now cascading from her and now entirely focused on Frida. Rather than collapse, Frida began cleaning her nails and turned her head toward Enrico.

"Do I attack 'er now?"

Enrico shrugged. "Fine by me. Aro?"

Aro shook his head. "I don't think we should risk the danger, get someone like-"

Without warning, Jane let out a blood curdling cry and charged at Frida. Frida shrugged, effortlessly tore off her sleeves, and punched Jane straight in the gut. She exhaled sharply, sending Jane flying backward in to the wall behind the thrones. The marble cracked with the impact and fell as Jane toppled face first to the floor, but was caught midair by Alec. He flashed a look of hatred at Frida, his teeth bared in anger.

"What did you do?" he snarled.

Enrico chuckled. "Took her down a peg it looks like."

"Enrico, another time." Aro scolded, giving him a stern look before focusing on Frida and Cathal.

"Interesting, I find three people with mental shields in the same year."

Cathal shook his head. "Nae, we felt tha pain, it jus' did nae seem bad. Kind of like a wee scratch."

Aro raised an eyebrow. "Interesting, then what can you do?"

"Ye already know aboot me, and Frida cannae show ye her gift unless ye want someone ta die."

When he finished the sentence, Caius bolted up in his seat pointing his fingers at the two.

"You two. Kill Cullens. MOON! CULLENS!"

To his right, an attractive woman with black hair and scarlet eyes approached him, whispering in his ear. As he listened, he shook his head frequently and rose steadily to his feet. His cloak dropped off, revealing a mess of blond hair and determined black eyes. He walked over to Enrico and pulled him close.

"Tell the guard to head for America and do not tell them why. We must have the element of surprise."

"Yes sir."

Chapter VI: Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie

Bayezid woke from a long sleep, one of the best he had experienced in a long time. Anger was losing its hold on his thoughts, allowing for not only a deeper slumber, but a calmer mind that he was convinced would see his goals through. The light which originally strained his eyes to perceive in the early hours was now a pleasant creeping aura of bliss and renewal.

With a slight yawn, he moved from his bed to open the blackout curtains, letting the sun's rays cascade upon him and his room. Outside was a span of cities and canals reaching to the vast ocean in the east, the great city of Venice. Usually he did not venture to these cities as it made him miss home, but today was special. He took a shower and put on blue robes before praying, after which he checked the clock. It was almost ten as he hurried to put on his shoes. Such a peaceful sleep had made him nearly late.

As the sun towered above the buildings, the man with a fedora stirred his coffee impatiently, hidden under the shade of an umbrella. Bayezid was usually very punctual about meetings, the only thing able to stop him from being such was a storm and even then it was a small chance. He was relieved when at two minutes past ten; Bayezid pulled up a chair and sat.

"Greetings, revered one." The man with a fedora said.

"It has been too long." Bayezid replied. "What is the news?"

"Everyone is in place, they should be in close proximity within two days."

The man with the fedora paused and took a sip of his coffee.

"I can not help but notice the effect this has on your behavior."

Bayezid raised an eyebrow. "Pray tell?

"Well for one, you were late. Secondly, you are relaxed, you can see it in your eyes."

Bayezid reclined in the chair and drop his shoulders.

"To be truthful, I have not felt like this in many an age. Almost as if I was young again."

"Well you are going to need all of your strength, we leave for the west tonight."

Bayezid rose from his seat. "Then it is best we get ready. Allah be with you."

"You as well, revered one."

_Year 863 Islamic Calendar in the month of Rajab. Roughly 1480 A.D._

_Istanbul (Turkey)_

Bayezid was never happier than in the marketplace. The clinking of gold between the merchants, the chatter of haggling sometimes being hollered at bystanders, and the smell of exotic spices that wafted through the air. His family had owned a stand in this place for four generations back and for four generations they had sold silk. Each morning and each evening they would bring and take silk rolls of every color in the spectrum that glimmered like the surface of the water on a bright summer day. Even more than him, his father Halim and his elder brother Ismet loved the shop. They seemed just as at home in marketplace as they did in the comfort of their own house with Halim and Ismet leaving with smiles from ear to ear present on their faces. He jumped as his Ismet's hand clapped on his shoulder.

"Hey, Bayezid! Do not give yourself to dreams again just because it is early."

In one swift motion, he turned him toward the cart and their father. Halim had been a calm man in his youth and thus the only signs of his age were his grey facial hair and smile lines etched in to his dark face which was not much noticed due to his yellow silk, gilded robes and white turban. In contrast, Ismet was much taller than his father, a giant of a man who appreciated fine music more than battle of any sort and wore spotless purple robes to show it off. As Bayezid approached the cart, he grabbed a bundle of silks and hoisted one over each shoulder as Halim smiled at him and Ismet.

"You two are such fine, strong men. It pleases me greatly to know the shop will be in good hands for another generation."

Bayezid and Ismet smiled as they helped their father unload the merchandise on to the shelves. As the sun began to climb, the day progressed very much as usual. Constant haggling with customers, having to shoo away thieves, and being excessively polite to the city guards. It was just a normal day for them until three men dressed in black approached the shop. They were obviously foreigners with pale white skin and a putrid stench that reeked off of them. Ismet took a deep breath as he approached them.

"Travelers from the West! My I interest you in some fine silks from Cathay? Perhaps lighter colors?"

The one in the middle with black hair smiled and spoke.

"How much akçe would it take to separate you from all of your goods?"

Ismet looked to his father who was explained the situation in Turkish.

"I must apologize, foreigners, but I can't part with my merchandise, for it is my living."

The middle one took out a large pouch filled with coins and jingled it.

"Not even for ten thousand?"

Ismet tugged at his collar while Halim shook his head.

"This shop is worth more to me than any amount of money you can offer."

Suddenly, the one on the left stepped forward and grabbed Halim by the collar.

"How about your life, old man?"

Bayezid stepped from the back and removed the man's hand from his father's clothing, loosing a low feral growl in the process. The man hissed in return, revealing white teeth amongst very pale skin and blond hair as he lurched back to join his partners.

"You smell terrible." Bayezid snarled.

"Much better than you mongrels." The blond man snapped. However, he was held back by the dark haired man.

"Very well." He said calmly. "We will not trouble you again. Good day, gentlemen."

They walked in to the crowd of the marketplace with the blond one flashing one last look of hate at Bayezid

The house was quiet on this particular evening. A small fire crackled in the fire place while Ismet plucked his lyre and sang the soft tune of the Song of Roland. The fire and the candles around the house cast a dim light on the walls, illuminating stone and short hallways that stretched through the house. The silks remaining from the sales that morning were stacked in a tall wooden shelf with a ladder that reached the pinnacle of the structure. Books were stacked in smaller shelves placed against walls that led to a hallway reaching two doors back with one on each side and one in the middle. Helim had retired to his bedroom almost an hour ago, leaving Bayezid and Ismet listening to the sounds of their own house and the hushed noises outside.

As Ismet strung his lute happily, he quit moving his fingers and grabbed the neck of the instrument. He turned his head toward the door as outside a dog was heard barking.

"Did you hear that?" he asked Bayezid.

They listened closer as the dog gave out a whimper before silence descended upon the night again. Silently they listened to barely audible footsteps creep their way toward the front door of the house.

Ismet put down his lute as the door flew open and four men dressed in black flooded the house. Two of them split and jumped at him with wild hisses and bared teeth, only to be caught by their necks in midair.

"Go! Get father! I will handle these beasts!" he yelled, smashing the one in his right hand in to the floor.

Bayezid rushed toward the back only to be stopped as a man blocked his path. Before the man could act, Bayezid grabbed his throat and ripped it out, causing the man to writhe in pain as he covered his exposed esophagus. He was quickly thrown out of the way as Bayezid bolted to his father's room, the center door, and kicked it open. Hanging over his father was a blond woman, her lips attached to his neck. She looked up and hissed at Bayezid, but suddenly stopped and started coughing blood. Her cheeks turned pink as her eyes started smoking and rolled back in to her head. More smoke curled off her skin before she fell off the bed and wheezed until she stopped breathing altogether. Helim panted as Bayezid went to his bedside. He grabbed Bayezid's robe and looked in to his son's eyes with a pained smile.

"My son…you are alive…"

"Yes father, men have broken in and as soon as I treat these wounds, we will leave with Ismet."

Helim shook his head. "No, you must not worry about me. This ordeal concerns not only our family, but our entire way of life. I am old, past my prime, and I can not hope to stop them. But you and Ismet, you are strong, fine young men. Take your brother and flee this place! Make sure to warn others about these men."

Tears welled up in Bayezid's eyes. "Yes, father."

Helim patted his son on the shoulder. "Do not fret over the passing of an old man, my son. The greatest thing you and your brother can do for me is to live! Remember, my love for you boys will carry on after my passing and we will see each other in heaven. Allah guide you."

"Allah bless you, father."

Bayezid hugged his father as Helim took his last shaky breaths and became still, a kind smile still present on his face. Bayezid left a sack of coins on his father's chest before loosing a roar of rage and charging down the hallway. In the center, Ismet was still holding his own against two vampires that were remaining, the other was still reeling from pain on the floor and one had his head planted in to the stone with little sign of a struggle to lift himself from the ground. Guarding the front door were the three men from that afternoon, looking on at the slaughter with sadistic pleasure.

As Bayezid entered the living room, he tackled the man fighting his brother as Ismet darted to the front, dodged the other two men, grabbed the blond one, and threw him in to the sidewall.

"Run!" he commanded. "I will meet you when I'm done here!"

"But father said-"

"I know what he said, but one of us is better than none! Make haste!"

With blinding speed, Bayezid darted past the two other men who made pitiful attempts to grab him before he raced through the city. The one with black hair shrugged as he entered the house.

"Oh well, at least I have my silks now."

He chuckled slightly as Ismet and the blond man yelled at each other and charged.

Chapter VII: Et dimitte nobis debita nostra

Alan looked on silently as thick, black clouds gathered to a nexus over the tree covered mountains, sending lightning to strike the ground with an earth shattering boom to follow them. He sighed as the first raindrops began to fall overhead. The house was so obnoxious to enter these past few days ever since Alice had gotten her vision of the Volturri heading toward them. Covens from all over the world had gathered to defend the Cullens if necessary. They said even more had come since the child incident.

"Good, more for the defense." He thought to himself.

As he cleaned his glasses, Tanya pranced up and clung to his arm. He put them back on as she batted her eyelashes at him. Ever since she lost Eleazar and Carmen, he had become her world. Kate shot him occasional glances of pure hate to make sure he never forgot that. That he could handle though, before his eye disease he had stared down plenty a warrior. A she-vampire was no more intimidating than his king's tax collector.

He held his breath as they passed Kachiri and the Amazon coven. Despite their kind smiles and boisterous attitudes, he found their stench to be absolutely repulsive. A noxious mixture of blood and various feces. However, this was tolerable in comparison to Bella who just so happened to stroll up to them with Renesmee in her arms. The Amazon's scent he could handle, but Bella's egomaniacal attitude had been wearing his patience thin. How anyone could love, nay, tolerate her was beyond his comprehension of human emotions. He forced a smile as she gave Renesmee to one of the members, Zafrina, before turning to him and Tanya.

"Don't worry guys, we've defeated the Volturri before!" she boasted. "There's no way they can get their mental attacks past my shield!"

"And the shape-shifters are coming as well?" he asked.

Bella shook her head. "I told Jacob to take Renesmee soon and they'll go to the reservation."

"I hope she'll be okay." Tanya said.  
Bella smiled. "She'll be okay, she's Edward's and my daughter after all. There's no way we're going to lose."

"_Arrogant little twit."_ Alan thought to himself.

As soon as he said that, Edward appeared next to him, an aggressive snarl on his face. Tanya let go of Alan's arm while Edward grabbed Alan's wrist and pulled him in to the kitchen.

"I've told you," he scolded, letting go of Alan's wrist, "Stop bad mouthing my wife!"

"And I've been reigning in my criticism. Why do you think only you can hear it?"

"Well stop! I won't have Bella slandered under my own roof. Don't insult her perfection!"

Alan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and chuckled.

"Perfection? From what I know about perfection, a perfect being would not seek out war. You stand her defending an ignorant wench who would send us all to our deaths if she had her way while you two sit in your ivory tower watching those apparently beneath you sacrifice their lives to preserve your doomed cause! And for what? To be remembered as the pile of corpses which support the Cullen name?"

Edward's eyes widened as Alan walked briskly up to him and pinned him against the wooden cabinets. His eyes, even behind glasses, were full of rage that made Edward turn his head in fear.

"For a while now I have kept my thoughts and dialogue civil between you and your damned whore of a wife! Now I want you to look in to my eyes and know what I know. See war, Cullen."

Edward at first resisted, but then peeked in to Alan's eyes and was immediately bombarded by a series of horrendous images. People with thick black sores on their arms crying out in pain, women screaming as they became drenched in the blood of their husbands and sons, and soldiers wheezing in agony as their entrails seeped out in to the streets. The images faded as Alan let Edward drop to the floor. He panted and made dry heaving sounds, struggling to get up only to meet Alan's gaze again with complete dread.

"You may have watched your family die from afar, living in the lap of luxury ever since. I watched my friends and brothers die around me, torn from this mortal coil in a matter that makes your mild disease look like a walk in the sun. Step down from your pedestal and take your wife with you or you will fall harder than anyone the second that war reaches your home."

Alan stormed back in to the living room, leaving a horrified Edward hunched over the countertop.

Everyone gathered outside in the rain to meet the Volturri host. Alan had positioned himself with Tanya's coven toward the back while Edward flashed wary glances at him from the frontlines. Lightning struck to the west, lighting up the black sky and casting an ominous glow on Alan's face. Tanya clung to his arm and whimpered as he patted her head in comfort. Over the hill, black figures appeared the trees. The Volturri had come.

One by one an army descended upon the Cullen home. Aro and Marcus were at the forefront, followed by a hunched and snarling Caius who had a man in a black suit and trench coat to his left. His head was covered by a fedora that cast a slight shadow on his face, though his smile was ever-present. They stopped a mere twenty feet from the Cullens and their party with Jane and Alec behind the leading trio. Aro stepped forward, smiling pleasantly at the Cullens.

"Hello, Carlisle. Pleasant weather isn't it?"

Carlisle shook his head. "Save the pleasantries for another day, Aro. Why are you here?

Caius cackled silently. "That's right, they don't know do they, Enrico?"

Enrico's smile wavered. "At this range, they may already, sir."

Alice leaned in and whispered to Carlisle. "The others don't know but the one with the hat-"

"NO MORE WORDS!" Caius yelled as he lurched forward, only to be held back by Enrico.

"Caius that is enough!" Aro berated. He turned back to the Cullens with a smile. "Now we've come to do some investigating. You see, we've heard of things going awry here such as the death of your precious Rosalie and Emmett."

"A loss which you caused!" Jasper shouted. "Who else would stand to gain from their deaths?"

Caius growled, but suffered a backhand strike to the face from Aro.

"Carlisle, please keep your spawn in check. As I was saying, the loss of the two is regrettable, but we also came across a scent brought back by our field operative. Have any of you seen a werewolf recently?"

"Yeah, we see them every day." Bella said.

"What she meant to say is we see the shape-shifters every day." Edward butted in.

Aro gritted his teeth as his continued to display a faux smile. "Well Bella, as wonderful as it is to hear that your wolf friends are doing well, we are talking about a different type of werewolf. The Children of the Moon."

Carlisle's eyes widened. "That's not possible, you lead an extermination of them yourself hundreds of years ago. Caius was the very spearhead of the operation."

"Which is exactly why I trust him with his analysis. If anyone could identify the scent of a werewolf, it would be him. Why else would he react so badly?"

Suddenly, Caius lifted his nose to the sky. His hood fell off to reveal his unkempt hair and pure black irises. He moved in a feral fashion toward the Cullens followed by Enrico. Bella looked as Edward tried to peer in to his mind but quickly had a puzzled look on his face. Caius noticed and grabbed Edward by the shoulders.

"Confused, Edward? You see, I have my own shield now even greater than that of Bella Swan!"

He sniffed Edward's neck, but was quickly pulled off by Enrico.

"That's enough, sir."

Caius' head shook violently. "No, I smelled it! I smelled the wolf on him!" He lifted his head again and smelled the group. "I smell it on all of you!"

He approached Bella and grabbed her wrist only to be smacked off by Enrico.

"Don't stop me, Enrico!" he yelled, eyeing Bella hungrily. "I smell it on her too!"

Like a panther, Caius crouched and pounced on Bella, tackling her to the ground. As he struggled to pin her arms down, Bella kicked him in the chest, sending him flying back in front of Aro. He crawled to his feet and grabbed Aro's ankles.

"What are you doing? The shield is down, get her!"

Aro looked down at Caius with contempt. "Caius, you mustn't-"

He stopped as his head reclined back and fell to his knees, eyes wide and staring at the sky. Jane screamed in rage as the rain fell on Aro's head.

"What have you done?"

"There, in the back!" Alec yelled. "A Child of the Moon!"

"They're just letting it walk among them!"

Marcus stepped to the front and spoke as a stroke of lightning crested over the valley.

"The Cullens and their followers will die this day!"

The Volturi yelled in unison as they charged forward.

Chapter VIII: Sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris

The Volturi descended like a wave upon the Cullens and their group. While the Cullens themselves stood still, the Amazons and Romanians sprinted to the front lines, prompting everyone else from the back to meet their foes.

Within seconds, they clashed. With the sound of an avalanche they collided and tore at each other using their teeth and hands to rip of limbs and chunks of flesh. As countless screams echoed through the battlefield, Edward took Bella's hand and tried in vain to run to the back.

"What are you doing?" he yelled. "Let's go!"

"Aren't we going to stand and fight?" she responded.

"Bella, this is a fight we can't win. Let's grab Carlisle and go!"

"No, they need us to win this!"

She turned around only to face a giant man with pale skin. He wore a spiked leather jacket, black jeans, had a small blond beard and mustache with blond hair that whipped in the air as he laughed maniacally with a voice that would scare the devil back to hell. He flexed his shoulders and stared at Bella with an expression she hadn't expected to see in battle. She would have been resolute if he had been twitching from nervousness or even snarling, but that would be far from his face at this moment. Her heart filled with dread as she looked at what he held in his hand: the severed head of Jasper. Looking back at his face, Bella felt incomparably small as the blond man looked at her with a manic grin and a look of glee in his eyes.

"Ye now look upon Cathal Fenrisúlfr!" He howled over the rain while flexing his arms, crushing Jasper's head in to pieces. "An' ye should know ta flee death incarnate!"

Quicker than she could react, Cathal plunged his hands in to Bella's rib cage and roared as he split her midsection in half. He then turned his attention to Edward whose face was contorted in sheer rage.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed, aiming to graze Cathal's arm. However, as he struck his fingers shattered against Cathal's skin, leaving broken stumps as he pulled them back and cradled them. Cathal stepped on Bella's back and grabbed Edward by the throat, lifting him off the ground as he smashed all who came within his reach.

"Let me tell ya a secret, lad. I am a Norseman, warrior blood runs thick through my veins as far back as my grandfather Cathal, chieftain of Iceni. I 'ave been killin' since tha Romans were still a world power. I 'ave killed beasts, men, an' even gods. So before ye die by tha hands tha' 'ave killed thousands of men far more worthy than ye I will ask ye a question: what do ye fight for?"

Edward looked at Bella and then back at Cathal.

"I fight for myself and Bella." He coughed.

"An' yer family?"

"No, Bella is my world. Without her, I'm nothing."

Cathal's expression dulled as he gradually lowered Edward to the ground. Then his face turned to pure hate.

"Ye disgust me."

He threw a now screaming Edward across the battlefield to the lines of the Volturi where he landed in front of a woman who had just finished decapitating Vladimir of the Romanian coven. She had blond hair down to her shoulders and piercing gold eyes while wearing a brown leather vest and worn blue jeans. Her eyes fixated on Edward with disappointment.

"Da! I wanted a challenge!" she yelled through the thunder.

"Best I had, make do with 'im!"

She sighed and her face gave way to a slight smile as Edward pulled himself to his feet now covered in mud and grass.

"Lad, my father was nae bein' merciful when he sent ye ta me. I am "Tha Smelter" Frida Skjold! I will make yer death a quick one."

Edward displayed a slight smirk on his face. "Are you sure you can defeat me? A little lady such as yourself?"

Frida's gaze glazed over as she cracked her neck. "Da gets tha main action an' I get a twig."

Edward's face twitched in annoyance. "You think I'll be that easy?"

Before he could move, Frida punched at Edward's face but before she made contact, a semi-transparent barrier appeared crushing Edward's nose and sending him in to the mud. He cupped his nose and moaned as Frida spat on his face.

"I want ta ask ye, lad, who do ye think kept Da company all these years. Da always took me in ta battle with 'im. I 'ave seen more blood an' gore than most men can stand in their lives. Tha difference between ye an' them though: they were smart enough ta fear me. Do ye know what me name means in Norse, lad?"

"I don't have time for that," Edward panted, putting his hand to his destroyed nose, "I have to get to Bella."

With his good hand he lunged at Frida's left arm, only to have his fingers shatter as they rammed an invisible force covering her arm. He cried out in pain as Frida sighed and moved her arm to the left, the force smacking Edward's arm away.

"It means shield, lad. Nae tha' paper membrane yer wife 'as, but actual protection. Of course, tha shield is nae jus' fer defense."

She grinned as Edward fell in to the mud, holding his hand up to try and stop her.

"N-n-no, please! Have mercy! I'll give you anything! Money! Blood! My family! Just let me go!"

A flash of lightning lit up the side of Frida's face and Edward's heart filled with despair as he saw her apathetic gaze.

"I was right, ye are a twig. But at least a twig would 'ave the courtesy ta keep quiet."

Thunder boomed in the distance, only managing to cover the faintest of Edward's screams as Frida slammed her shield in to him again and again. Mud flew and covered those around her as Edward's head cracked and split in to the mud, becoming a muffled symphony of pure agony as he suffered his demise.

On the Cullen's side, Tanya was able to hear Edward's screams and Frida's beating as if she was there. All around bodies of the fallen were crawling and groaning as they struggled to put themselves back together. The lightning gradually heated up the valley and she could feel the heat rising with each and every second that passed. Behind her, Alan was being attacked ruthlessly a member of the Volturi guard.

"Tanya! Help!" He pleaded as the guard took his right arm off.

"Alan!"

Everything slowed down as she turned around to help him. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough. She watched as Alan looked at her with despair as the guard grabbed his neck and in one swift motion ripped off his head. It was then that time stopped completely. One of the last members of her coven, gone in a mere second that lasted eternity. The world seemed to set ablaze around her as she screamed and launched herself at the surprised guard, going straight for his neck and ripping off his head before clawing at his chest in a futile attempt to tear out his heart just as hers had been.

"He could have been my mate you bastard! The only man I'd loved besides Edward, gone! And it's all! Your! FAULT!"

With each word she clawed again and again while the guard clutched his chest in pain. A flash of lightning rose the temperature even higher. It was like she was burning. There's no way the valley could be this unbearable. She fell in a spasm as the heat overwhelmed her, caressing her body with red hot needles, managing to get a glimpse of Alan's severed head. A tear ran down her cheek as his eyes opened and he looked at her with a smile.

"Enrico." He ordered.

Tanya watched as Enrico walked up to her and pulled her chin up. Underneath his hat and groomed black facial hair was a slight grin.

"Of course, sir."

He snapped his fingers and Tanya's world morphed around her. She was held in the air by Alan, but there was something different about him. His shirt had switched from plain white to having a giant, red t-shape across it covered by an aviator's jacket that purposely exposed his left wrist which revealed a white and aged burn mark in the shape of a cross. The rain had finally slowed to a light drizzle as Alan took off his glasses with his free left hand and crushed them, looking off to his left toward Enrico.

"Finally." He sighed. "Tis a relief to finally remove those infernal ocular perception devices. Honestly I thought that I would go blind should my sight be further inhibited by their misuse."

"Given our state, Alan, I doubt that would happen."

Alan spat on the ground. "God curse this form."

"Alan?" Tanya croaked.

Alan turned toward her with a look of disgust.

"Oh yes, the demon still lives. I keep forgetting that you will live until I kill thee."

He walked forward, maintaining eye contact with Tanya as the heat behind her continued to grow more intense.

"Thou art not worthy of an explanation, but I suppose one of you must know. When I gained this form, I gained an ability unlike any other. Cathal!"

Cathal trudged forward, dragging the still breathing remains of Bella behind him.

"Ye did nae' 'ave ta shout, lad. I can 'ear ye jus' fine!"

He held up Bella's split head by her hair with the ends messily coming together in the middle as she gasped for air. In one smooth motion, Alan swiped his hand straight through her neck, separating her head which stopped breathing mere seconds afterward and leaked a small amount of blood. Tanya stared with disbelief.

"Wha-what did you do…?"

Alan wiped his hand on the ground as Cathal tossed Bella's head and body behind Tanya.

"My arms are the swords of the spirit, bequeathed unto me by the Lord as compensation for being damned to the life of a monstrosity. My blades allow me to kill a demon such as yourself as though you were human. A courtesy by my standards, but you fowl demons will get to hell fast enough."

He walked toward the heat a bit slower this time as he slowly turned her around. It was at this point that she discovered why her body had been subject to an inferno all this time. As Alan turned her severed head, she saw the Cullen's house set ablaze with several glittering corpses inside which befouled the air with the scent of burning lavender. On the edge with the fresher bodies such as Edward and Bella was the rest of hers, convulsing as the flames engulfed it.

"NO, ALAN! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" she howled in tears. "Did all of our time we spent together mean nothing?"

She flinched as Alan showed her his left hand. Wrapped around the base of his ring finger was a band of silver with a line of ivory in the middle.

"No." he responded coldly. "What happened between us was merely a ploy. Even the last moments were an illusion constructed by Enrico. Only figures your hubris would make you lack the intelligence to resist or even detect his ability."

"Ability?" she moaned weakly.

Enrico nodded his head with a sadistic smile. "Don't suppose you felt a tap on your shoulder did you? As soon as I touch someone, they're under my power. Or perhaps you didn't see the slightest difference in Caius the second he became my pawn."

He turned his head to Frida who walked up after throwing Edward's corpse on the pile.

"Wonderful job you did with Edward, sister."

Frida spat on the ground. "Please, ye could 'ave at least manipulated tha twig in ta madness. He would 'ave been more fun."

"Weak people are naturally weak, sister." He hissed, sneering at the burning corpses. "I learned that lesson centuries ago and it's no more apparent than now."

His face quickly morphed in to a grin as Cathal approached them, forming a triangle close to the house.

"Though I hope you two enjoyed how I directed the strongest of both sides to you."

Cathal laughed heartily and gave Enrico and Frida a hug. "Ye did great son! An' you too, Frida!"

"Thanks da'!" they said in unison.

"An' let us give praise to Tyr fer this bounty of enemies granted to us!"

They cheered happily as Alan turned his head away and his expression hardened.

"My wife and I lived happily before your kind showed up. Now I find it to be my duty not only as a chivalrous man, but a man of God, and the last of my order to destroy you."

He tossed her head up in to the air as he bowed his head and muttered to himself as Cathal, Frida, and Enrico danced in a triangle yelling "Tyr" over and over again.

"In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."

Chapter IX: Et ne nos inducas in tentationem

_Year 343_

_Around Esbjerg, Denmark_

Cathal found himself comfortable in the brisk air. Fire rose from holes in the earthen huts, slapped together to comprise a small settlement for his nomadic tribe. Despite the chill, he wore simple leather garments that covered his torso and legs while leaving his thick, muscular arms exposed. The only armaments he wore were two deer skulls covering his shoulders and his grandfather's metal club attached to his back.

While he usually got menacing stares because of the weapon, today the people kept to their own. They loathed this northern trek and so did he. It was the dead of winter and they had to go north to appease the northern pantheon. Gods who had watched over them for years, but came at a price. Suddenly a horn was blown from the eastern guard. The sound, low and menacing sounded like a funeral dirge to his ears. He jogged to the center of the village, pushing villagers aside rather than suffer their annoying looks.

From the snow covered trees, the gods emerged. The first was Thor with his gruff face, long red hair, and gigantic muscles covered by iron armor with his hammer hoisted over his right shoulder. To his right was Tyr, a clean shaven man with long blond hair and covered in long animal skins with a metal scepter in his left hand. To his right was Loki, slim with a sharp face and shorter red hair with crude fur armor covering most of his body. Finally on the end was Odin. He was taller than the rest with a strong face covered in a white beard and mustache, a fur helmet that left his empty left eye socket exposed, which hardly distracted from his large fur garments and his golden spear, Gungir, which he carried at his side. He stepped forward as the last of the tribe quietly hustled in to the center.

"My fair people, it pains me to ask this of you once more, but we need sustenance so that we may continue to bless your places of rest with grain, your women with fertility, and your battlefields with glory. Who among you would offer themselves?"

There was a long silence over the crowd, a bit of shoving but no one came forth. Odin sighed.

"It always brings my heart grief to do this. We shall-"

"I will go." Cathal answered.

"Who speaks?"

Cathal pushed his way to the front, snarling at those who looked at him. He took out his club, slamming the head on the ground before taking a knee before Odin.

"Cathal, son of Herleif, defeated by Cathal of Iceni, for whom I am named after."

"That is quite a way to travel from the southlands. How did one such as yourself end up in the north?"

"My father decided to raid my grandfather's land, but my grandfather drove their force back with the very club you see here."

A roar of jeering and hissing erupted from the crowd until Odin raised his hand, silencing them in an instant. He raised his hand and waved for the others to fade back in to the forest, resulting in more complaints from the crowd. Cathal turned to them and snarled, an animal-like and vicious sound that stunned the villagers in the front row until Odin put his hand on his shoulder.

"It is time to go." He whispered calmly.

Cathal's expression softened as he turned to leave, but not before the warrior, Ingvar stepped forward with a smug grin. Cathal stopped to look at him while Ingvar pointed and laughed.

"Look, the beast of the south is being taken away by the gods! What a glorious day this is!"

The other villagers laughed as Odin silently removed his hand from Cathal's shoulder. In one swift motion, Cathal walked over to Ingvar, released his club, and broke Ingvar's neck with a sickening crunch. The warrior fell dead as his fingers twitched and blood slowly leaked out his mouth. Cathal hoisted the club over his shoulder.

"Deer mock wolves when they think themselves to be rid of them. I assure you, you are not rid of me."

He spat on Ingvar's corpse and patted Odin on the back as he walked briskly by him.

"Let us go I tire of their stench."

Odin regained his composure and followed Cathal in to the forest.

It was complete blackness around him, but Cathal could feel the gaze of the gods as they stared at him with interest. He wiped the blood off his club while they chatted silently amongst themselves. As their whispering began to die down, Cathal slammed the club's butt on the ground.

"Can we get this over with?" he growled impatiently. "When am I to be killed?"

He listened as one of the gods came over and sat down next to him, grabbing his palm and drawing an arrow in it, the rune of Tyr.

"Cathal, your village has served us for a long time and we them, but our time is growing short. We do not belong here in the mortal coil, but the halls of Asgard. We have been looking a long time for someone to release us and believe it to be you. Our blessing will be given to you and when you awaken, you shall release us from this prison so that we may give gifts to mankind from where we truly belong."

Cathal felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder followed by liquid of some sort being injected in to his blood, making his body writhe in pain as he collapsed on the dirt, clenching his shoulder and finally stopped moving. Loki came over and tapped Cathal's motionless body before giving a loud sigh.

"This is so boring! When will he wake? When will the Fenris finally take us?" he cried in frustration.

"It will take at least a day or two." Odin replied calmly. "Be patient, my son."

"Well why should we do this?" Thor added in. "We have a nice arrangement with the tribe and all the fuel needed to sustain our bodies in this world. Why should we let Fenris take us to our mundane lives in Asgard?"

"Time to put down the wolf!" Loki cackled.

"Sorry to disappoint you, my lords." Cathal whispered, removing Thor's head with his bare hands.

"But it is time for you to return to Asgard!"

He howled as Loki backed up nervously, only to have his head ripped off in turn. Now panting, he turned his attention to Odin, who had drawn his spear and leveled it at Cathal's chest.

"No…our blessing should take days to come to fruition. What are you?"

"Do not fear, Odin. I am still human, for my heart beats like thunder in my chest and my blood is like cold iron in my body. But I can feel it taking hold and now I will destroy you! To Asgard, my lord!"

He screamed to the heavens as he grabbed his grandfather's club, beating Odin's spear out of his hand before crushing his head. Looking around the increasingly brighter nightfall, he saw a rock which he smashed in to pieces, producing shards of flint. He grabbed a large piece and struck it against the rock, causing sparks to hit the dry foliage below him and started a blaze which preyed on the surrounding trees, engulfing the site.

"Tyr?" he yelled. "My lord, where are you?"

Cathal looked around, grinding his teeth in search for the missing god until the rustle of foliage in the direction of the village gave away his location. In frustration, he kicked a tree, destroying the bark and sending it toppling over with a large crash and sprinted after Tyr, flint and club in hand.

Tyr arrived at a cliff overlooking the village wishing that all of what happened was a dream. None of their blessings had ever happened that quickly and the mortal destroyed them with such ease. It was like watching a ravenous beast devour all around it, a feeling that made his mouth dry and his gut clench.

"My people!" he cried. "Help me, the Fenris is coming!"

"The what?" one of the watchmen yelled.

"The bringer of the end! The one who will kill all us gods! Hurry before-"

"Before what, my lord?"

Tyr turned around, his hand rushing forward as a fist, only to be caught and torn off at the wrist by Cathal. He crumpled to his knees as Cathal readied his club, his flesh now gleaming in the moonlight and his more pointed teeth bared.

"No, it is not possible…To have happened so quickly and for you to have killed us during it…"

"Live on in Asgard, my lord."

Tyr took a shallow breath and looked up at Cathal with determination.

"I will see you at the end, Fenrisúlfr."

Cathal howled as his club crushed Tyr's head.

_Year 405_

_Kiel, Germany_

Frida's tribe was encountering staunch resistance from the natives. Even for being the scraps of the Hunnish rear guard, they put up a far greater fight than they were expecting. Her long blond hair whipped in the furious wind that helped the enemy push them toward the shore line.

Around her, the last of the Vandals were being slashed apart, men she had known and grown up with her whole life. With each of her own people being cut down, she fought with increased ferocity until a large Hun came forward with an iron war hammer. Frida instinctively raised her shield as the soldier brought his hammer down upon her, breaking off an enormous chunk of the shield which scraped her arm and broke it with the impact.

She let out a savage cry in pain as black spots dotted her vision. The Hun took his time approaching her before lifting his hammer, painting a brutal scene to what Frida knew would be her end. Suddenly, a savage howl loosed in the distance, catching the Hun off guard as he turned to examine the noise. He screamed in terror as his armor was dented with a crunch of metal and organs by an iron club.

Wielding the club was the strongest man Frida had ever seen. He was wearing visibly old chainmail with some of the rings missing and animal skin pants. His pale, glistening teeth were only matched by his skin and hair which were pale and fair respectively. He looked at Frida briefly before moving on to slaughter the rest of the Huns with his club in tow, wiping them out before the heavy grey clouds shifted in the sky. The man walked slowly over to Frida and knelt down to look at her closely.

"Who are you?" he asked in her native tongue.

"Frida, last of the Vandals of the north."

"You were very brave to stand against those men. I have not seen courage like that since the days of the gods, truly a blessing from Tyr. How would you like to continue fighting under their blessing?"

Frida winced as she moved her arm, revealing the crude shape and bruises on it from the shield.

"We will fix that. Come with me and you will never have to worry about the mere limits of humanity. Choose your name and follow."

Frida could barely resist a smile at the prospect. "I choose Skjold to honor my shield and tribe. I will follow you…who are you exactly?"

The man brought her broken arm up to his mouth and readied his teeth.

"Cathal Fenrisúlfr." He muttered as he bit down, secreting liquid in to her arm and letting go.

"Welcome to my family, Frida Skjold."

_Year 1357_

_Milan, Italy_

It was a brisk day in the middle of spring as Enrico suffered from a coughing fit. Despite being dressed in his warm wool clothing, his previous disease left him with a chill he could never get rid of. What was originally a means of blackmail by his deadbeat father, Ivanus had turned in to a sobering few months for Enrico as no woman wanted to lay with a man who had been infected with The Pestilence. Even more so for one who survived it.

With a measure of effort, he hefted himself up from his desk and threw the letters from the Visconti family in to the crackling fire place. Their strategic stupidity annoyed him, but he had made his bed to lie in by siding with them. As he unlatched his shutters to view the city below, he remembered why he kept them shut. The ill were everywhere, dragging their bodies in the filth that polluted the streets. One of the many benefits to Enrico being in charge of defending the city and surrounding provinces was the discovery of bathing brought by the Turks of the east. Since then he had been feeling less ill, but kept it to himself to avoid being burned as he had to mess up his hair and smear foul oil on himself every day to make sure of.

As he closed the window, he heard a loud ruckus at the door followed by the scream of one of his maids. He grabbed his sword and hurried through the corridor to the front door to find his father standing in the foyer, dressed in rags and growling like a lunatic. His balding head was layered with filth and his grey beard was caked in dust and the scent of cheap spirits. When he spotted Enrico, his gaze narrowed and he walked with more upright posture as though trying to assert himself as being a man of a higher class than he was.

"Enrico," he scolded coldly, "I believe you owe me something."

Enrico coughed and grasped his sword hilt. "A rat can not walk in to a man's house and demand cheese. Off with you, filth."

Ivanus' face turned red with anger. "Is that any way to speak to the man who gave you life? Who let you live when you were a young lad?"

"You did none of those things!" Enrico yelled. "Mother was the only one who cared for me!"

Ivanus gave Enrico a sinister smile. "Speaking of your mother, where is she?"

Enrico's eyes widened as he approached Ivanus and drew his sword, pointing it at his throat.

"That does not concern you."

Ivanus snarled at him. "Keep in mind who you threaten in this city, boy. You know who I am personally friends with."

Enrico hesitated, but sheathed his sword with a harsh clang on the guard.

Ivanus smirked. "That's better. Now I'm going to see your mother, I'm sure she'll-"

He was stopped as Enrico smacked Ivanus across the face, sending him falling to the stones that comprised the floor. Ivanus collected himself quickly and straightened the collar of his rags.

"I will be back in a week's time to see your mother during dinner. If I find your behavior to be less than I desire, the Guelphs will know who offended their esteemed friend."

Ivanus huffed and exited the house, slamming the door behind himself which the maid quickly locked. Enrico was sweating heavily. He couldn't afford for that…rat to stroll about his abode like he owned it. He also suspected that unless he kneeled on the ground and kissed Ivanus' feet, he would be executed for offending his "guest" the very thought of which made him shudder worse than the cold of The Pestilence did.

As he turned to leave, his mother, Delphina walked from the open hallway in to the foyer. She had been hit by the disease worse than Enrico. Her once beautiful face played host to black sores with her coughs being of such intensity that she had to be helped around the house by the maid Johanna.

"Mother!" Enrico said quietly as she hobbled over to him.

"Enrico." She replied lovingly. "Did you give Ivanus what for?"

Enrico nodded his head as he gently embraced her. "As much as I could mother, but I have ill news. He's coming for dinner in a week's time."

Delfina stood there motionless as Enrico slowly let go of her, a single tear falling from her eye.

"No…"

"There was nothing I could do, mother. You know who he is friends with."

"Yes." She muttered, her voice little above a whisper. "Nothing we could do."

She hid her face in her sleeves and silently sobbed. Enrico couldn't blame her. Ivanus had been nothing but a plague ever since Enrico was born. He verbally and physically abused Delfina culminating in The Pestilence being brought upon their house. Enrico lost his oldest and favorite maid Katrina when his father infected them. Sadly, he lived too. As he replayed these sad memories, there was a knock at the door.

"Johanna, you go, I'll stay by mother."

Johanna bowed and rushed to the door. She opened it and stood wide eyed, quickly having a conversation in a language that Enrico couldn't understand.

"Who is there, Johanna?" Enrico called.

Johanna opened the door, letting the two in. They were foreigners as their blond hair gave away but were almost opposites in body type. The man was tall with muscles bigger than any Enrico had seen wearing a worn brown traveler's cloak that revealed a battle-scarred pale torso and legs covered by long and thick wool breaches. The woman was smaller with thicker wool clothing on her torso covered by the same type cloak as the man and similar breaches as him. On her wrists Enrico could barely make out two bands of leather with approximately eight metal spikes attached to them which he found to be very odd. Johanna gave them quick instructions as they stepped forward and bowed.

The man pointed to himself and declared, "Cathal."

The woman did the same, "Frida."

Enrico pointed at himself and said his own name before pointing to his mother and saying hers. Cathal gave an affirmative nod of his head and spoke in his foreign language.

Johanna turned toward Enrico. "He says he and his daughter travelled from great northern battles to come here so that they may rest. He also asks who you are and what you to have a place like this."

"I am Enrico the Bastard, commander of a portion of this city's military. I have won many campaigns so they pay me to win more."

He chuckled at the end as Johanna translated. Cathal listened intently and gave a hearty laugh, speaking once more in the other language.

"He says he can sympathize with a bastard warrior and that he would like to speak with you as well as stay the night if he could?"

"Of course, we've plenty of rooms to spare. Tell him to meet me in my study after a quick bath."

After Johanna finished, Cathal raised an eyebrow and spoke.

"He asks, what is a bath?"  
Enrico looked at the both of them and then back at Johanna. "I'm sure they won't mind you showing them, grab a few others if you need to."

Though Cathal had a bath, he still smelled very much like the earth. Fortunately for Enrico, he didn't find the scent of dirt and grass to be that unpleasant. Even as Enrico sat down Cathal looked around constantly at the shelves as though the books would suddenly jump and attack him. Johanna sat in a chair forming a triangle between the three of them as she waited to translate for them.

"So what is a commander like yourself doing in your home all day?" Cathal said through Johanna.

Enrico sighed. "Unfortunately, I've been brought down by disease caused by my no good swine of a father."

"That I know all too well. My own father tried to have me killed by an invading force by retreating all the other men."

"What happened?"  
"Killed them all then made his death look like an accident."

Enrico sat back in his chair. "Is that so? I must say, I admire your skill Cathal."

"From what I have found, a man should not be doomed just by where he comes from. Rather he should make himself in to the man he wants to be."

Enrico stroked his beard for a moment before smiling at Cathal.

"I believe we can help each other out."

Ivanus showed up in the late afternoon as the sun was descending below the horizon. As if possible his rags were even filthier now covered in an extra layer of grime that had worked its way in to the lower part of his beard. He shoved maids to the side as he went down the corridors and kicked open the door to the dining room. What he entered in to genuinely shocked him.

Enrico sat at the far end of the table with Cathal and Frida on his right and left with one empty seat next to Cathal. At the end of the long dining table was a seat which Ivanus took after a great deal of sticking his tongue out at Enrico. He carelessly moved his seat to sit, purposely slouching and belching to goad Enrico, but it was to no avail. Enrico just sat at the end of the table eyeing his father with a small grin on his face. They sat in silence for a while without Enrico or the guests breaking their gaze at Ivanus. Agitated, Ivanus slammed his fist on the table.

"Enough of this! Where is your mother? You know what will happen if I don't see her." He mocked, motioning across his throat with his thumb.

"Oh I know, but first I would like to introduce you to our guests."

He motioned his hands to Cathal and Frida as Johanna brought drinks from the kitchen and placed them at each seat. Without waiting for the others, Ivanus took his drink and downed all of its contents in one long swig. He belched loudly as Enrico walked over to him with Cathal and Frida.

"This is Frida, maiden of the north." He said kindly motioning to Frida as she sneered at Ivanus.

"And this is Cathal."

The last part was muffled as Ivanus' vision began to blur. He tugged at the collar of his rags as he tried to get out of his chair, only to collapse on the floor as his legs gave way from under him. He watched as his vision went in and out of darkness while Enrico towered above him with a wide sadistic smile.

"As I was saying, this is Cathal, my father."

From behind him, he caught a brief blur of an olive skinned woman with a face as though sculpted by angels covered in hair that cascaded along her scarlet dress like waves. She turned to Ivanus with a cold stare that quickly turned sinister on par with the level of animosity present on Enrico's frighteningly pale face.

"Delfina?" Ivanus croaked.

Delfina laughed and put her right arm around Cathal, pecking him on the cheek.

"The way she was before you tried to kill us with The Pestilence." Enrico chided.

Delfina gracefully walked up to Ivanus, his vision becoming slowly darker.

"And I believe this is deserved."

His last sight was Delfina swiftly kicking him in the face causing everything to go black.

Ivanus found himself woken days later, his sight covered, cold water being poured down his face, and was pained by a raging hunger.

"Wake up." Enrico's voice commanded behind him. "It's time to eat."

Ivanus searched around the table before hearing the clatter of a plate in front of him. Without stopping to feel for utensils, he grabbed the plate and devoured whatever was on it. It had an odd squishy texture, but was singed around some of the edges meaning it had been cooked. Before he knew it, the morsel was gone and he pawed at the table for more, only to find his actions met with Enrico's calm laughter.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ivanus snarled. "You want the Guelphs to kill you this badly? Fine then, get me out of here and I'll tell them just how I was treated while staying in your home."

"Oh I don't think that will be an issue." Enrico said from the other side of the room. "Cathal, if you would please?"

Ivanus struggled as Cathal's ice cold hands removed the black fabric from his eyes. He adjusted to the light and found that the room was being lit by candles along the walls and table. However, something in the middle of the table made him wish they put the blindfold back on. With his eyes glazed, pointed in different directions and his scalp taken off was the head of the Guelph family with half his brain missing. Ivanus screamed, but was restrained by Cathal as Enrico approached him.

"Is there a problem?" Enrico questioned.

"Of course there is! Do you realize what you've done?" Ivanus yelled back.

"I disposed of the head of the Guelph family."

"You disposed of the head of this city."

Enrico wagged his finger. "Correction: I disposed of the former head of this city. I'm sure the Visconti family would have no problem asserting that truth."

"Vile traitor!"

"How can I be a traitor to people who I never sided with? I am a military commander with troops and a commitment to my city. To whom those troops and the city go to is entirely up to me. And now that your guards in this city are gone. It's time I showed you what I've been holding back."

As he finished, he touched one finger to Ivanus' head, sending him in to a horrendous illusion. Every single nightmare he had ever had and some that he had yet to experience came flashing before him, causing his heart to beat faster and faster until it stopped. Enrico looked down at the gaping Ivanus and sighed.

"Looks like the illusion was too powerful. The fear killed him."

With a final sigh, he shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the body of Ivanus as well as the head of the Guelph family and threw them through an open window. Below their bodies met the stone streets with a loud thud as Enrico brushed off his hands.

Cathal gave him a nod and said in heavily accented Italian, "Good job son."

Enrico gave his new father a hug. "Thank you, father."

He let go and turned his head toward the kitchen.

"Mother, sister, Johanna, come here please!"

All three women stepped out of the kitchen quarters, bags packed in elaborate trunks which were mostly carried by Frida. Enrico smiled as though he was experiencing the sensation for the first time. This was what he always wanted: a family not to despise, but to love. He unbuckled his sword from his side and placed it on the table with a letter.

"Johanna, let Frida and Cathal know that we're setting off for a country called England shortly. You will come with us and be taken care of till the day you die for your honorable service to our family."

Johanna's eyes began to water as she smiled. "Thank you, sir. It has been an honor."

Thus the five walked toward the entrance, never to set foot in the house again as they embarked on a journey through the world.

Chapter X: Sed libera nos a Malo

_Year 1152_

_Jerusalem_

Alan strolled down the streets of Jerusalem with a joyful almost hop to his step. Despite the heavy armor, sword, and heat bearing down on him from above, it was joyous to see the holy city in the springtime. As he passed, the locals stared at him and whispered to themselves. Nevertheless, he gave them a smile as he was happy to finally have his corrective lenses. As he stopped by the vagabond Baldwin, he stared for a moment in confusion.

"Something wrong, Baldwin?" Alan politely asked.

Baldwin had a bead of sweat travel down his face. "Um, no sir, not at all."

Alan chuckled a little. "You don't have to worry, they're a gift from my wife. I can finally see clearly!"

Baldwin let out a sigh of relief. "Well milord that would explain why you haven't drawn your sword yet."

Alan dropped a few coins in to Baldwin's lap. "Terribly sorry about that, my friend. God bless you."

Baldwin looked up at Alan with a slight tear in his eye. "Nay, thank you milord."

"And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." Alan said with a smile.

The sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon line as Alan opened the lock to his house. As he quickly opened and shut the door, he was bombarded immediately by a barrage of fragrant scents and spices that although strong eventually died down to cascade over him like a wave, making him forget the troubles of the day. He closed the door and knocked on the adjacent wall seven times in rapid succession before whispering the word home under his breath. He gradually removed his armor as a woman covered in black cloth approached him with a dagger. She looked at his face and cast the dagger aside, running as quickly as the clothing would let her and unveiled her face to kiss him. Alan embraced his wife warmly as he took in a deep breath of relief. She let go as she smiled and tapped on his eyeglasses.

"So, did they help like I told you they would?"

"I avoided impaling several peasants if that is what you are asking."

"See? And you said your sight could never be cured." She teased.

"Finally I'll be able to see you and Jibrīl clearly."

This much was true. His sight wasn't good when he was born and only deteriorated as he got older. Thanks to his lovely wife, Havva, however, he was now able to see everything clearly. He could see her black cloth do its best to hide her coffee colored skin and jet black hair with the most prominent thing being her ferocious brown eyes.

"Speaking of which, where is Jibrīl?"

"Right here, father!"

Alan looked over at the corner wall to find his young son seem to materialize out of the shadows. He removed his hood, revealing a smiling face no older than ten that bore a striking resemblance to his mother with his dark skin, short black hair, and thin face. The only difference, it seemed were the emerald green eyes that he shared with his father. He ran over to Alan who lifted him high in to the air as Jibrīl giggled happily before being lowered and embraced by both of his parents. Alan let him down, taking a knee to look at his son at eye level.

"So, what did my little soldier do today?"

Jibrīl bounced up and down happily as he spoke rapidly switching languages.

"Well mother and I went to the market, then I played a game with some local kids, then we got chased off by the old shopkeeper in the market district, then we saw these hooded men and I stayed close to mother after that, then I learned new sword fighting techniques to take on bad guys!"

He took out a small dagger and started thrusting it in a mock battle before being quickly stopped by his father who caught the dagger blade in his gauntlet.

"Your day will come, son. For now just practice and you will be the greatest warrior that ever lived raised by the most beautiful woman who ever lived and her husband."

Havva blushed and smiled before giving both men a kiss on the cheek.

"Now wash up, dinner is almost ready."

Alan slept soundly beside his wife when his subconscious mind heard the door unlock with a crunch as the wooden door gave way around it. Without a moment's hesitation he hopped out of his bed and grabbed his sword, briefly calming his wife before going in to the living room to face the danger. He ran in to find three men in hooded cloaks pilfering through his furniture and possessions.

"CEASE!" he commanded.

The men dropped what they were doing and looked at Alan with curiosity as one of them removed his hood. In the dark, Alan could only see the teeth of the others which were almost blindingly white in comparison to the dark. The man who removed his hood smiled warmly at Alan and opened his arms wide in greeting.

"Hello, mortal! You have the pleasure of seeing Ahmes, emissary of Mammon the Lord of Greed!"

Alan unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Ahmes with a cold stare.

"Pleased to meet you, now get out."

Ahmes walked forward, touching the tip of Alan's sword with his finger, causing it to prick and bleed. Ames looked in shock as Alan smoothly moved his sword to the side and made a clean swiping motion at Ahmes who blurred as he dodged the blade and grabbed Alan's hands, twisting them to let go of the sword. He held him against the wall and turned his head toward the other two.

"Empty the home, I will speak with this one."

They loosed a growl and dashed through the hallway, taking whatever they could and piling it in the center of the room while Ahmes faced Alan with a gentle smile.

"You have guts, mortal. We could use people like you. Just relax and contact us in a few days."

As he finished, he opened his mouth and sunk his teeth in to Alan's neck, secreting ice cold liquid in to his bloodstream as Alan gasped in pain. Ahmes then let go of Alan and let him drop to the floor, clutching his body in agony. Around him the thieves seemed to become slower as his vision started to get sharper, far more than it had even in his youth. As blackness fringed on the edges of his gradually increasing vision, he heard a shrill scream from his room.

"_Havva!"_ he thought in a panic.

Gritting his teeth through the burning pain in his body, he grabbed his sword and slowly rose to his feet, staggering to find balance before leaning against the wall. He moved as quick as he could, careful to not draw the attention of the thieves until the door to his bedroom was in sight with the door wide open. He yelled and nearly tripped over himself charging to the door, only to find Ahmes appear to stand in his way. His grin was slightly agitated as he held up his hand for Alan to stop.

"Come now, would you not like to leave your mortal coil behind? I have done this for you, now come and embrace your brother."

Alan continued to walk slowly toward Ahmes, forcing a smile through his pain until he was within reach and ran him through his heart. Blood coated the blade on the other side as Ahmes cried out in pain, grabbing the sword which dug in to his hands as he struggled to pull it out against Alan's weight. Alan grinned as he let go of the sword and pushed the weakening Ahmes to the side, blood leaking out of his wound. Inside he saw his sheets with blood dabbled on them with a person wrapped up in blankets to the right of the blood. He rushed over to the person and removed the blankets to find Havva consoling Jibrīl who was crying in her arms. She smiled weakly and directed Jibrīl's attention to his father. Alan was sweating bullets as he stroked his son's forehead.

"Come with me, I will distract them while you run."

Jibrīl wiped his eyes and looked at his mother.

"Don't worry, I will just need to speak with your father for a moment. Keep yourself hidden."

She kissed the top of his head and muttered the words "I love you" as he left her arms and swiftly moved down the hall. Alan could now see that she would never leave. She released her right shoulder to reveal a large chunk of flesh taken out of her throat. She chuckled as she saw Alan look at it.

"Just a scratch." She joked.

Alan's eyes began to water as he kneeled by his wife's bedside.

"Do not cry for me, Alan. While I wish I could spend more time with you and Jibrīl, I am content knowing that what I did experience was heaven for me. What sadness I feel here will be wiped clean in an instant when you join me, in the meantime live happily and live well."

When she finished speaking, he kissed her as he had never kissed her before. The entire moment felt like a millennia of passion squeezed in the span of seconds. As he pulled back, Havva sniffled as to not start weeping and gave Alan a small smile before closing her eyes. Alan slowly moved away, leaning on the bed to hoist himself up until he gasped as a sword went through his chest with the point sticking out the other side.

"How dare you!" Ahmes growled.

Alan grabbed his chest as Ahmes withdrew the sword and slammed it against the floor, breaking off a small shard which he forced in to Alan's open wound. As he was doing this, he didn't notice Jibrīl race in to the room and in one swift motion wrested the sword from his hand. Ahmes turned in shock only to mind the sword stabbing him in his lower intestines. He fell to his knees, clasping his hands over his stomach until Jibrīl swiped at his neck, instantly decapitating him. He grabbed his father's shoulder and looked him sternly in the eyes.

"Let us depart, father."

_Year 1210_

_Masyaf, Syria_

Jibrīl watched from a high up tower as the assassin guards patrolled the walls. Allah's gift to them kept the guards vigilant throughout the night as they viewed it simply as a cloudy day. Jibrīl himself had received the gift which he reaffirmed by flexing his arm which felt like he could bend even iron with his bare hands. The half-moon while not very bright cast a light upon him that barely showed off his dark blue long sleeved shirt tucked in to pants of the same color that led down to black shoes that covered the entirety of his feet. His head was covered in a tightly worn black turban leading to his emerald green eyes and a neatly trimmed black beard and mustache. He reached for his dagger as he felt a short burst of wind followed by a sour stench.

"You are late." He scolded.

"Can you blame me? All nights look the same."

Jibrīl cracked a slight smile and then turned to hug his father, Alan. Jibrīl had grown quite tall and now dwarfed Alan through sheer size and muscle mass. The two men let go and observed the villages and countryside beyond their fortress.

"We've taken down four of their emissaries this month." Jibrīl said.

"I can't believe a noble was involved with those demons."

"About that, father. We found out something with the death of the fourth. I observed the termination personally and found another man in black watching so I captured and interrogated him for days. Your sword works wonders on those men."

Alan looked down and studied his arm.

"I told you to use my abilities when you wanted, a father likes to see his son for more than just monthly meetings you know."

"It was in confliction with your schedule. You swore an oath to the Knights Templar and you might as well keep it when you can."

"That reminds me, our investments in the local Damascus silk trade are doing wonderfully."

"And you are giving a tithe to our institutions?"  
"Charity is a constant virtue for me, son. Now, you were saying about the man?"

"Yes…" Jibrīl trailed off and walked to the other end of the tower.

"Before he died, he said something that intrigued me. He said, 'All hail the Volturri.' I think the Cult of Mammon may just be part of another front, father. Which unfortunately means I must withdraw my militant support."

"But we're depleting their morale. Their agents decrease by the day."

"They're decreasing because they're defecting. Whatever this Volturri is seems to be claiming more followers as we kill them. In the meantime, it is getting harder and harder to manipulate the master of our order. If this continues, my hands will be bound. From here on I can only offer you information on this group and continued entrance in to the fortress."

"That is all I can ask for, thank you, son."

"You are welcome, father. Allah be with you."

"God be with you as well."

_Year 1450_

_Auxerre, France_

Alan was not used to people knocking on his door without his weapon drawn, but from the strength of the battering against the door, he figured this was something better handled without a blade. It was a cool morning as he listened to the nearby clock chime signaling that it was seven o'clock, not a time of waking for the residents of the inner city. He moved the iron bar that kept his door closed and dropped it with a loud thud before opening it to see a strange sight.

In his doorway was what looked to be one of the strangest families he had ever come across. Altogether there was a gigantic, muscular blond man wearing green leather clothing that almost resembled armor as it rested on his shoulders and pointed toward a blue arrow tattooed on his face. The others to his left were also dressed in green comprising of leather worn by a blond woman, a dress worn by a black haired woman, and a black haired man each of them carrying a severed head that gleamed in the low sunlight.

"Please, come in." Alan said in French.

"Thank you." The black haired man responded politely in the same language.

Alan motioned them to his small wooden kitchen table that only had two chairs. The black haired man saw this and said a brief line to the blond man in a language Alan didn't recognize and with a simple motion, the blond man motioned the rest to the wall as they put their severed heads on the table. Alan and the black haired man sat down as the others eyed Alan suspiciously.

"I must admit, Alan, your advertisement was rather clever. Had I not heard that it was the local recluse who nailed the parchments to the walls, I would have never considered bothering reading them."

"You seem to have gotten the message despite being apparently French."

"Italian, actually. My family and I are a collection of rather interesting races."

He pointed to his family members as he explained.

"That man there is my father, Cathal. He fights like a madman and is the strongest one of our kind I have ever met. Next to him is my mother, Delfina, to her left is my sister, Frida, and I am Enrico. I can already tell you are one of us, but my question is why you would put up such a poster when you yourself are the same as the ones we killed."

Alan gave a deep sigh and recounted his tale, down to the eventual death of his son and his lost children. Enrico slouched back in to his seat, his eyes open with surprise as he looked at his lap. He cleared his throat and resumed speaking to Alan in a slightly shakier tone.

"So why haven't you tried to kill us?" he inquired.

"Well as it happens, I am one man against what appears to be an enclave of seasoned demons. I figure ones such as yourselves might be able to help me in my mission."

Enrico thought for a moment and had a brief discussion with his family in the foreign language which apparently got heated as Cathal pointed at himself and shook his head until Enrico mentioned something in a soothing tone which changed his mood entirely.

"You have our services, Alan."

_Year 1493_

_Bari, Italy_

Bayezid muttered angrily to himself as he walked along the docks. How hard was it to get one ship filled with a cargo of foreign silks to one port without it getting raided? Obviously he would now have to go on every voyage just to make sure the crew didn't give the cargo up before they touched the water. Without thinking, he picked up a small rock and threw it across the water, sending it flying across the service before denting the wood in the side of a vessel at sea. He huffed and stormed away from the water only to be stopped near a pillar by a man in a blue hooded cloak.

"Having financial troubles, are we?" the man spoke in Arabic.

"That is none of your concern." Bayezid snarled, flashing his emerald green eyes at the man.

"Wait!" the man commanded.

Bayezid stopped and approached the man who looked at him with curiosity. Under his hood Bayezid could see the man had pale skin, brown hair, and eyes the color of amber. He clenched his fist as the man studied him.

"Who was your father?" the man asked.

"Halim Karadeniz. Why are you-"

"Who was his father?"

"Levni Karadeniz. Now who in Allah's-"

The man pulled back the lower part of his cloak to reveal a sword hilt that he tapped with his left hand as he stared down Bayezid.

"And who was his father?"

"I do not know, he merely called himself Jibrīl. We have no last name."

In an instant, the man's hand dropped as he collapsed on his knees. Bayezid crossed his arms and stood there as the man looked at him in complete shock.

"You will have to forgive my manners." He said weakly. "I am Alan and I knew your great-grandfather very well. I have been looking for his descendants for…a long time."

"And what if I think you are just one of those pale men that came years ago and massacred my family?"

Alan's face hardened in anger as he brought himself to his feet and covered his sword with his cloak.

"I too am hunting those men. I will not stop until they are eradicated from the earth. Whether or not you believe me, this is the truth and I have amassed people who think the same way."

"Yet you smell and look like one of them."

Alan motioned for Bayezid to walk with him down the streets, avoiding shoppers as they passed. The man recounted his tale to Bayezid, save for some personal details which he choked up on until they arrived at a small red door down an alleyway. Alan opened the door and escorted Bayezid inside. Bayezid was both astonished and awestruck by what he saw in this chamber. One wall was covered in maps and writings written in at least three different languages and pinned together with threads and drawings of weapons. On the other wall was a remarkable collage of silks, but there was something familiar about them. Such bold colors, fine texture, and a warm scent that brought his homesickness to the front of his mind. This could only have been the work of his father. The man smiled as he removed his hood.

"I loved your family's fabrics and tried to buy from your exporters as often as I could. You can imagine how devastated I was when I found out your family business had been destroyed."

Bayezid was started when without warning, a pale, black haired man dropped from the rafters of the building followed by another man and two females. He snarled as they came toward him, only calmed when Alan put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"These are my associates." He said in an assuring tone. "Enrico di Spade, Cathal Fenrisúlfr, Frida Skjold, and Delfina Dolce. We all want those men dead and we want your help…"

"Bayezid." Bayezid affirmed. "You can add the name Bayezid Karadeniz to your ranks."

Chapter XI: Amen

_Present day_

_Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean_

For the first time in a while, Alan could finally enjoy the sunlight. He reclined back in a white leather chair on the lounging deck of "_The Lancelot_", his personal yacht. Behind him were two other floors of the behemoth both painted white and housing what looked to be an odd, small party. Cathal and Frida watched an Ultimate Fighting event from the satellite television while Bayezid and Delfina were having an intense conversation about color patterns and design. Enrico was nowhere to be found on the top decks, but was in the engine room "entertaining" their hostages while Gregory approached with a roast beef sandwich and sat down in a lounge chair next to Alan. He wore green swim trunks without a shirt that showcased his olive, muscle toned skin. His eyepatch and monocle were removed, revealing emerald green eyes that took on a bit of blue from the sea.

"I can only imagine how long you've waited for this." He said as he took a bit of the sandwich.

"Longer than a good man should admit."

"So when will we finally be rid of them?"

"As soon as we get to the island. It is the best place to burn the bodies. On a different note, I believe a thank you is in order."

"For what?"

"Without your thorough analysis of my skin cells, we would have never been able to defeat them so easily."

Gregory put down his sandwich and wiped his hands on his swim trunks before picking up the sandwich again.

"It was no big deal. Who would have known the parasite would be vulnerable to space metal alloys? Or that "vampirism" was merely a means for its protection and survival. Strange animal it is."

"Well, it was that conclusion that led to their destruction and for that I thank you, Gregory Karadeniz."

Gregory chuckled. "Don't get formal on me just because my grandfather and I stormed their base. You've known me for almost two centuries, we should be on familiar terms by now."

"Force of habit, English is not my first language."

"It isn't for any of us."

They paused for a while until Gregory finished his sandwich.

"So you're not going to tell them?"

Alan shook his head. "No, they would try to talk me out of it."

"Have you considered tagging along with Bayezid and I? We would greatly enjoy your company."

"And I enjoy yours, but every moment reminds me of my old family. That kind of pain does not just go away."

"I understand. Grandfather, Cathal, Enrico. They all had the chance to start anew. I see why you would feel left out."

"When the time comes, I will need you to help me."

Gregory's eyes widened. "You can't expect me to do that after all these years."

Alan's expression hardened. "You have known how long I have wanted to do this. Extinguishing the demons was my goal. Preserving this world and the good people in it was my goal. Without it, I feel tired. I have not slept in almost a thousand years and I am dragging my feet in fatigue."

Gregory gave a deep sigh and looked at the spotless wooden deck of the yacht.

"Fine, tonight I will help."

The three leaders of the Volturri sat on their knees motionlessly, their eyes and mouths shut tightly. The group stood in front of them as the sun came closer to vanishing below the sea. A bonfire had been kindled separating them, casting enough light so they could see each other in the diminishing light to follow. When the sun set, Alan spoke.

"Enrico, take them out of their trance but make them think their hands are bound no matter what I say."

Enrico stepped forward and snapped his fingers. "Yes sir."

Simultaneously, Aro, Caius, and Marcus opened their eyes and gasped.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aro said between breaths.

Enrico laughed. "That I believe is a question better directed at my supervisor."

Aro glared at Caius with hate as the latter shook his head.

"No, I swear, I didn't tell him to do anything that would endanger the coven. I'm innocent!"

Alan stepped forward. "Allow me to save you a night's worth of squabbling. I am who he claims to be his supervisor. Alan of Rochester, knight of England and sole remaining member of the Knights Templar here to extinguish your influence from the earth."

Aro heartily laughed at that statement.

"Well in that case, Templar, you've chosen the wrong people. Our coven in all likelihood knows we are missing and is sending a division led by Demetri to hunt you and your friends there and kill you."

Alan smiled. "It is funny you should mention that."

The full moon began ascending in to the night sky seeming to focus on Bayezid and Gregory who hunched over and stepped toward the Volturri leaders. As they watched, their bodies morphed becoming larger as they removed their upper tunics to allow their muscles to expand and grow. Thick fur began covering them from head to toe being white on Bayezid and gray on Gregory while their faces elongated in to canine snouts. Caius began whimpering as their hands and feet grew larger with the nails becoming black claws. With a howl, Bayezid grabbed Caius' throat and lifted him in to the air.

"Do you remember me?" he snarled in a near demonic voice.

Caius looked close to dying of fright and tried to look away from Bayezid's werewolf form. However, that only made Bayezid pulled him closer.

"ANSWER ME!" he roared.

Caius screamed, thrashing around wildly before sinking his fangs in to Bayezid's arm. Bayezid howled and ripped off Caius' lower jaw then removed his fangs from his arm. Caius tried to scream but failed with his tongue flailing wildly.

"You are not getting off that easy!"

Bayezid unleashed a feral growl as he threw Caius to the ground, thrashing at him with his claws and teeth while sending chunks of flesh flying on to Aro and Marcus. After he finished, only the open torso of Caius remained, displaying broken ribs and a now hollow chest cavity sprinkled with shards of sparkling flesh that remained motionless. Bayezid panted between snapping his jaws and wiping his maw.

"For my father, for my brother, and all those who suffered."

He pointed angrily and Aro and Marcus. "You are next."

Alan stepped forward, giving a short applause to Bayezid and Gregory.

"As I was saying, while we had you occupied on the field of battle against the Cullens, we sent our own force against your home. According to the report, everyone who could claim to be allied to you is dead."

Aro looked at the ground in stunned silence.

"Tha-that's impossible." He muttered. "We had the numbers on the field of battle and at home. How did this happen?"

"I'll take responsibility for that." Enrico chimed in.

Aro's head shot up and gazed at Enrico with malice. "You? How? You're a mental shield like that Bella girl."

Enrico snapped his fingers, switching his face with that of Aro's sister, Didyme. Aro hissed as Enrico smiled coldly through her face.

"Afraid not. The second you greeted me and let me in to your coven I touched every single one of the members. When the time came, I manipulated them under my illusions. I must say, Caius was the easiest. All I had to do was toy with his fear of werewolves a bit and voila! Instant madhouse case!"

"Traitor!" Aro spat.

From his side Enrico drew a sword, the same one he had wielded as the captain of the guard of Milan, and pointed it at Aro's throat.

"You see this blade?" he said with a manic grin. "The word traitor was used on me before when I wielded this sword and you know what I did? I butchered the head of the main house in my town and then served his brain to a rat that was pestering me. Thankfully my friends made some…adjustments to it, but it remains a symbol of how little that word means to me."

He turned around, hefting the sword over his right shoulder and as he walked away he snapped his fingers. The Volturri leaders felt the false chains fall to the ground behind them.

"You have two options: fight or die. Now that I think about it, they're more or less one in the same. So who wants to go first?"

Suddenly Aro jumped at Enrico, arms out ready to grab him when he slammed in to Gregory's fur covered arm and was pushed in to the ground. He struggled as Gregory held his head in the sand while Marcus bared his teeth and flexed his arms. Enrico turned to Alan and raised an eyebrow.

"He's all yours." Alan said.

Enrico slowly approached Marcus, his sword held in a cautious stance. Marcus hunched over as he bared his teeth at Enrico whose expression became increasingly dulled as his opponent continued to stand in place. Eventually he dropped the sword tip and sighed.

"Could you pick up a stick or something, please?" he complained.

Marcus lowered his arms in confusion. "What?"

"I'm telling you to pick up something that can be used as a weapon or this won't be fun at all."

"Fun? You think this is fun?"

"My father is a Norseman and I'm a former military commander. Unless you have a torture room or a group of loose women, this is the closest thing we have."

Marcus grabbed a nearby fallen tree branch and launched himself at Enrico.

"Then how's this for a weapon?" he shouted.

Faster than he could blink, Enrico was on the other side of Marcus waving his sword a bit in front of him as Marcus felt his left arm fall to the ground beside him with the wound gushing out fresh blood. He screamed and dropped the tree branch, covering the wound with his steadily warming right hand. He turned his head toward Enrico in rage.

"What sorcery is this?"

He gasped as he felt a burst of cold steel ram straight through his heart from the other side.

"Not sorcery, merely biology. Right now the parasite that has bequeathed unto you pseudo-immortality is receding in to your heart where the sword is now killing it and rendering you mortal."

Marcus coughed up a bit of blood and grunted in pain as Enrico removed the sword from his chest.

"But how?" he questioned weakly. "Only by tearing and fire can we be killed."

"Well that's one way to kill you and is by far the most common, but in reality it's the nature of the reaction that makes fire that renders you vulnerable to it. You see, upon entering your body, the parasite is shown the entirety of molecular structures and possible structures you have come across during your lifetime. Thus you can smash stones, smash trees, and your skin feels like marble as far as density goes but you are still vulnerable to fire. Fire has no molecular composition and thus cannot be warded off by the parasite which retreats when exposed to it in a vulnerable state. However, the reason I'm able to kill you with this is something the parasite did not expect: extra-terrestrial metals."

He showed off his blade under the moonlight, letting the crimson from Marcus' blood give it a shining red hue in contrast to the silver above it that had not broken his skin.

"This sword was given a coating of metal that fell from a meteorite. Tempered by entrance in to Earth's atmosphere, bombarded with radiation, and tinkered with our own specialist so that it would never rust. A metal not naturally found on earth makes the virus react more adversely than it does to fire and renders you mortal the second we deal a serious blow to any one of your kind."

He walked over to Marcus and raised the sword above Marcus' head.  
"Personally I think dying as a human is too good for you. But if you are to die, then may your soul be forever with Hel."

He swiftly brought the sword point down through Marcus' skull and twisted, thus permanently ending the life of the Volturri leader. Now all the remained is Aro who had been shown the entirety of the death of Marcus and was now being held over a recently vacant stump whose tree had been pushed aside for the occasion. He struggled hopelessly against Gregory's hold on his arms as Alan was presented his own sword by Bayezid. He unsheathed it from the scabbard and looked at the broad blade in the moonlight, almost an exact replica of what it was nine hundred years ago. As he approached the tree stump he plunged the sword in to the sand and began chanting to himself.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis: sanctificetur Nomen Tuum; adveniat Regnum Tuum; fiat voluntas Tua. Sicut in caelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie; et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris; et ne nos inducas in tentationem; sed libera nos a Malo. Amen."

His hands shook violently as he finished, only calmed by an exhaled breath as he opened his eyes. He placed his hands on the hilt of the sword, the worn leather letting his grip dig in as he removed it from the sand with individual grains slowly leaving the blade. His arms crested above his head with the blade in tow as he looked in to the eyes of Aro, his long hated enemy with nothing but distance. He was not there. He could not savor it and did not want to. It was not for the sake of revenge that he would execute him, but rather to purge evil from the world. This was the mentality of Alan as he swung the blade down on the stump and cleaved Aro's head from his neck. The body thrashed wildly for a moment as the blood vessels shot blood to the now separated head. The head itself had its eyes wide open, mouth agape as the increasingly lifeless eyes gazed in to the sky to see a multitude of stars and a moon that pierced the light with a bright ray illuminating everything it touched.

Alan cared nothing for the opinions and sights of the head as the light faded from its eyes. His blade had made a slight cut in to the tree stump from which he removed it with ease as Gregory pushed the body to the side.

"It is over." He said quietly.

"Aye, tha last good fight we will 'ave in a while, eh lad?" Cathal joked as he patted Alan on the back.

Alan gave a weak smile back and Cathal's smile disappeared.

"Are ye alright?"

"Yes, I am fine. How about you all go back to the yacht? I have a lovely house that my banker will sign over to your name."

"Ye are nae comin'?" Frida asked.

"Do not worry, I will meet you again." He said with a smile.

Cathal shrugged and began walking to the other side of the island with his family following behind. Bayezid in his grizzly wolf form walked up to Alan and regarded him with respect.

"Do not get yourself killed." He scolded.

Alan chuckled. "Promise that you will not either and we have a deal."

Bayezid snapped his jaws in what seemed to be an imitation of a laugh before trudging off. Enrico was one of the last to leave and raised his sword to Alan in a salute.

"It's been a pleasure, Alan."

"Likewise, Enrico."

Enrico lowered his sword and joined his family in walking to the yacht, leaving Alan and Gregory standing alone on the beach. They stood in silence looking at the stars above when Alan shed a few tears from his eyes.

"I am going to see my family, Gregory."

The End


End file.
